


Pearls Before Swine

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: AU, Fairy Tale Elements, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, merman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 95,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: Hakkai, a mild-mannered pig farmer in a destitute fishing village crushed under the foot of a cruel landlady, thinks he's entirely out of luck, but his fortunes change after he makes a series of strange discoveries on the beach. Who -  or what - was that mysterious man Hakkai saw in the water? What price is Hakkai willing to pay for his change in fortune? Will he be able to turn his bad luck into a truly happy ending?





	1. The Curious Drowning of Cho Hakkai

**Author's Note:**

> I had been kicking around this idea for a little while, and decided that the Weiss v. Saiyuki battle would be an excellent time to put forth what I had. I don't think I'll finish it by the end of the 2017 battle, but we'll get through as much as we can and keep going from there! 
> 
> This story was inspired both by classic fairy tales -- Andersen's "The Little Mermaid," for example -- and some historical mythology. I warn you that there are some darker elements here, borrowed from the well-known folk stories and adapted for use here. The original fairy tales aren't nearly as nice as the versions popularized by Disney, and that holds true for this story too.
> 
> That said, I was absolutely also influenced by the popularized Disney versions of the stories, so of course, this has to be a love story too. Enjoy!

**Pearls Before Swine**

**Chapter 1: The Curious Drowning of Cho Hakkai**

Hakkai woke, as he ever did, to the bedlam of the pigs in the paddock squealing and squabbling. They were as loud through the thin walls of his hut as they were outside, as loud as any rooster crowing, and yet, waking on a morning like this was just a little harder. He rubbed the dust from his eyes, then sat, slowly. His bedroll was already cold from the early autumn air blowing in under the drafty door, the gaps in the rice-paper windows and he had no fuel left to stoke the stove, so leaving the relative warmth of his blanket was little challenge. He found his short trousers, sash, and his last good jacket and dressed hurriedly, then threw the window and peered out into the pig pen.

None of his pigs had been stolen in the night, so that was some relief. Instead, it seemed the pigs, all twelve of them, had found some sort of vegetable rind in the mud and were fighting for it. He clapped and whistled a few times, stomped his feet, until the surprise disturbed the squeals and largest hog got the vegetable and scarfed it down. Hakkai sighed to himself, and hurried to dig through the last of his food supplies. He hadn't been able to give them a proper breakfast in far too long, he knew, but he had enough rice in the bag to throw something together. Besides, today was the last day.

Today was the day.

Hakkai made the rice as wet as he could without reducing it to pure mush, tossed what fish scraps he had in, and poured it into the trough. It was a piteous offering, but it would have to do. He checked the sun, then made to comb his hair. If he hurried, he could put the traps out before the traders arrived.

He paused for only a moment on his way out to stop at the shrine behind his low table, and lit his last stick of incense in the little sandalwood burner. He folded his hands for a moment of silent prayer, then said “I hope you are well in your next life, Kanan.” He hesitated a moment, wondering if he could, should say more, but he knew how she would answer if he were to say more. Instead, he gathered the traps from where he'd left them, not bothering with his sandals, and hurried out. The house, empty but for him and his paltry few possessions, creaked as he pushed the door, the noise echoing dully through the hollow space.

Hakkai's hut, and the spit of land he called his, were positioned at the cusp of a cay. His father's old raft was still moored on the rickety dock, and Hakkai halted only a moment to ensure the rope was still secured. He used it so rarely, he sometimes worried the rope would rot away without him even noticing and the raft would vanish into the tide. Perhaps, such was the way of all things, to vanish, to rot away, but Hakkai would rather the things he still needed be in good working order for as long as he should need them. He hiked his trousers from his knee up to his mid-thigh and waded out, putting a little chunk of fish head into each trap and anchoring them well, the way Father had taught him, the only way he knew how.

Then, he heard laughter from nearby, and pivoted about to see a few boys from the village, hardly adolescents, likely, haphazardly tossing a net in. Hakkai frowned to himself, but whistled to get their attention. When they turned about, he put on a showman's smile as if he were putting on a puppet show and said, with all the patience of one teaching a small child, “You can't put your net there. This land is mine still for the time being, and I don't care for nets or trespassers. Please remove it.” The boys stared at him, then muttered to one another in a hush, jabbing one another with their elbows, then all spun around and turned tail, laughing and shouting. Hakkai heaved a sigh, then began to trudge over to retrieve the net.

Before he could get to where the net was anchored, he heard a distinct bell from the road near his hut and turned to see a mule-drawn cart approaching, ringing a tin bell. The cartbed was already lined with straw, and Hakkai could see the traders in their bamboo hats talking to each other and pointing at his pigs. Then, one of them got out a scale. He had to strain not to grimace, but unrolled his pants as he trudged up the shore.

He greeted the traders with a sweeping bow at the waist, the way Grandfather had told him they did at court. None of them returned it, too busy putting blocks in under their cart's wheels. He merely exchanged names and pleasantries with the driver, then went to herd his pigs out. He found the sow with the black ear and brought her forth with as much pride as he could muster.

“She's only three years old, and she's delivered three litters of healthy piglets, eight, twelve, and nine. Only two runts. She's in her prime.” He ushered her forward onto the scale, and the trader put a few weights onto the ballast and shook his head.

“She's underweight.”

Hakkai hung his head. “Ah, yes. We've hit lean times of late, but she's still very healthy. Her hooves--”

“The hooves and ears are clean,” the trader muttered, “but she's thin. All of them are. We're going to have to fatten them up before harvest.” He pointed at Hakkai. “And it's going to have to come out of the bottom line.”

Hakkai couldn't lift his chin. “Of course.”

The traders weighed each pig, shaking their heads and swearing at each other in their own dialect, and Hakkai could only watch and listen with a heavy heart as every single one of his pigs were weighed and herded onto the cart. The trader game him a string of coins, but took a short knife and nicked off the end quarter of it right in front of him. Hakkai accepted it with a rote, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

He was lying, but he had no choice.

Hakkai watched the trader's cart roll away with every last swine in his pen, his last breeding sow, his last prize hog, his father's family's livelihood for as many generations as could be recalled. The money in his hand was the only money he'd held for weeks, though, and he had promises to keep today.

Hakkai wrung the water from his pants, re-cuffed them to the knee where they belonged, and slipped his sandals on to head into town. The market street was sparse; most of the traders set their booths up in the next town over, but even their run-down little town needed a few things for sale. Even so, there were less people trying to hawk their wares here than Hakkai remembered. Hakkai owed every single one of them money.

The wheat seller, for one, for the mash he'd fed his pigs when he could still borrow. Hakkai paid him, bowed, and ignored the hangdog look the old man gave him from behind the sacks of wheat. The little old woman who sold vegetables pursed her lips as Hakkai counted out coins and offered them with an apology for the long delay in paying her back. Hakkai was able to go from person to person and counted off every coin on the string, until he got to the last few. That, he took to the rice farm he worked at to earn rice, because he could get a few days' measure of rice for a day working in the paddies, but his money was still good. He approached the paymaster, hailing him with a wave, but the paymaster shook his head.

“We've got enough workers today, Cho.”

“No, and it's rather late to start, isn't it?” Hakkai smiled wryly, but held out the coins in his hand. “Is there any strong liquor I can buy in your storeroom?”

As the paymaster went to check the storage, Hakkai heard someone calling his name, and turned back towards the dusty road to see a familiar face, smiling to see him. Goku, his jacket long-since lost and the sleeves torn from his tunic, trousers ragged at the bottoms and hair pushed back from his face under a scrap of amber linen tied around his forehead, was jogging towards him bearing a yoke loaded down with two massive buckets on his back. He still had a big grin on and a sprightly pace despite his heavy burden. “Hakkai! Hakkai!” He stumbled to a rolling halt, then set his yoke down behind him with an impact that shook the earth under him. “Hey! Hiya!” He had to stop and catch his breath, then exhaling just to grin back up at him. “It's been a few days since I saw ya! I didn't know you were working here this morning!”

“I'm afraid I'm not, at that.” Hakkai put on a little smile, half-reflecting Goku's smile, half because he wasn't sure what else to do with his face. “I was just making a small purchase after settling my debts in town.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” Goku raised an eyebrow, then smeared the sweat off. “I didn't think your pigs were ready for harvest, what with, um...”

“They weren't.” Hakkai broke eye contact. Goku blinked a few times, and then his chin dropped, crestfallen.

“Oh. So, you, uh...”

“Sold what I had. Every last pig. Even the sow.” Hakkai paused, glancing over Goku's shoulder. From here – from any low point in town, really – he could easily see the castle on the hilltop, the seat of the feudal landlady. “Lady Koushu comes to collect next week, you know.” Goku grimaced.

“How can I forget? I'm still trying to scrape together enough for her. But, um, hey!” He clapped his hands together and put his smile back in place. “At least you have enough now, right?” He paused, as Hakkai bit his lip, then leaned forward, eyebrows all screwed up. “Right?”

“I had enough to pay everyone I owed money to.” He fidgeted, as Goku moaned and slumped over. “There's no red ink in my name in town anymore. Nobody will be able to say when the collectors come, 'I can't pay you because Cho Hakkai couldn't pay me.'”

“Hakkai, that's real admirable and all, but what're you gonna do?” Goku grabbed his arms and shook him a little. “You don't wanna leave town, I don't want you to!” Hakkai shook his head and stepped back just a little, drawing his arms tight to his chest.

“I'd rather not leave, either.”

“I'll get you more work!” Goku gave his yoke a kick with his heel, jumping a little with excitement. “Everyone always has something for me to do! They don't pay me a lot, but if I'm fast, I can do plenty of jobs! You can do it, too!”

“Ah.” Hakkai eyed the yoke, but he knew there was only one yoke, and he also knew that load wasn't one he could lift without bruising. “I wouldn't want to take work from you. You have your own tribute to pay.”

“Well, yeah, I guess!” Goku shuffled his feet nervously. “Um, but there must be other work! And, uh, you could, you could teach reading! To kids!” He gave Hakkai's arm a little punch. “You tried to teach me, remember?”

“I do recall.” Hakkai smiled wryly, shoulders sinking. “I did try.”

“And yeah, just 'cause I was too bratty to sit still doesn't mean you weren't a great teacher!” Goku jumped up and down, eyes sun-bright with excitement. “You'd be great! Plenty of people would love for their kids to learn to read!”

“Perhaps.” Hakkai kept his eyes low, because he didn't have the heart to tell Goku that too many in this town struggled to afford to feed their children daily, to buy rice and oil and food they couldn't catch from the ocean. Nobody in this sad spit of fishing village had enough to take care of themselves, he couldn't possibly expect anyone to take care of him.

“See?” Goku clapped his hands on Hakkai's shoulders, and Hakkai forced a little smile. “I'll tell everyone you can give reading lessons! You'll be able to get the money before next week, no sweat!” He hoisted his yoke back onto his shoulders with a soft grunt, then patted the bamboo arch where it laid on the meaty part of his shoulders – Goku was a little smaller than Hakkai, but built with brick and stone, so sturdy. Hakkai knew where Goku had been, where he'd come from. He envied how strong he was, even so weighed down. Still, he had it in him to smile when he turned over his shoulder one last time with a big smile. “We got a plan, you're gonna be okay!”

“Yes.” Hakkai bowed his head just a little. “A plan. You're a good friend, Goku.” Goku beamed, then jogged on down the road towards the fields. Hakkai turned back to wait for the paymaster, shaking his head to himself. Goku was a good friend. Hakkai hoped Goku wouldn't miss him too much when the time came.

The paymaster returned with a bottle in hand. “Baijiu. White liquor.” He uncorked the top and let Hakkai take a whiff. Hakkai pulled a face, then shook off the shock of the pungent smell. The paymaster chuckled a little. “I never took you for a drinker, Cho.”

“I'm not. In fact, I've never been able to afford it before.” Hakkai handed over the last of his coins and tucked the neck of the bottle into his sash. “Today's something of a special occasion.  
  
Hakkai was grateful the paymaster didn't ask what the occasion was. Instead, the paymaster bit his coin and saw Hakkai off with a cordial farewell and an invitation to come back in the morning to work, then went back to his duties, and Hakkai departed, pockets empty, but with the bottle swaying at his hip. With little else to do with his day, he walked around the town for a long time.

He had lived here, Chengdu Village, a speck so small it appeared on no map, four days by horse to Guangzhou and two weeks to Beijing, his entire life. He could still recall, when he closed his eyes, happier days. He still had those memories of when he was a child, when the streets were filled with fishermen hurrying their carts up the road to sell their specialty catches in the big trading village, women selling clothes and seashell jewelry, his father's stern brow as he paddled out on his raft and returned with strings of fat carp, his mother's hand in his as she led him through town, and Grandfather's rumbling voice telling stories about faraway places that he would love to see him go someday, Kanan's smile, Kanan's laughter. There were festivals then, nights when the streets would be strung with red lanterns on bamboo poles and fluttering banners, with feasts, laughter, dancing. Hakkai had at least a few friends then, he remembered Kanan dragging him into the square and making him dance with her when the lutes and fiddles were rhapsodical and bright.

Ten years had changed so much. It seemed that there was never enough in anyone's pockets anymore for anything. Broken windows were left unrepaired, roofs weren't washed, walls were cracked or crooked and left untouched. The fishermen sold none of their wares in town, the rice paddies and orchards sold everything they could and at higher prices than ever in the trading market. There hadn't been so much as a public wedding in three years, let alone summer or harvest festivals for more than ten. Hakkai was certain he hadn't heard the cry of a newborn baby since before his mother had passed away five years ago. He knew, from his grandfather's tales of his own travels and youth, that happiness wasn't meant to die when childhood did, and yet, for Hakkai, it had. So many things had. 

All the while, Hakkai could see the castle on the western hill, looming large over the run-down town. He halted at the crossroads where he could move west for the trading village or east for the outskirts and short, spit westward at the seat of Lady Koushu, and smeared his mouth dry. Damn his manners, there was so much worse he could do had he only the strength.

He didn't. In fact, if he were being honest with himself, he was worthless, and worth nothing. He had nothing.

He did have a bottle of baijiu, and that was about all.

Hakkai had lived alone in his hut for more than two years now, but looking around the one-room hut he'd shared with his entire family for his first twenty-two years, he could still see the indelible signs of the family he'd lost. His father's and mother's old clothes were still folded up in a woven bin; Hakkai had kept them, anticipating cannibalizing them to make new things for himself as needed, because Father had been much larger than him and Mother's things wouldn't suit him. He'd given away all of the bedrolls but for his and Kanan's when others in town had needed them and couldn't afford to buy or make new ones, but he kept Kanan's in case the nights were ever cold, or for those moments when he wanted to see the patch where she'd embroidered her name, a tactile reminder of her thin, pretty hands. The low table where he ate alone now still had etch marks from when Grandfather had taught him and Kanan to write, there were scrape marks in the bottom of his best pot from trying to get every grain of rice up to make certain he and Kanan could eat as much as there was to eat. Father's nets, long neglected, sat in a crate next to the rainbarrel under the kitchen window, and if Hakkai inhaled deep enough, he could still catch a whiff of fish under the sea air.

That was reminder enough to bring in the traps.

Hakkai wasn't much of a fisherman, despite his father's best efforts. The work was laborious and backbreaking, and worse, boring. He preferred the domestic task of caring for the pigs the way his mother had, though it seemed there was none of that to be done anymore. Instead, he would trap just enough to feed himself, and tonight there were a few fish waiting for him, surely lured in by the bait and his hopes. His appetite was small, but he thought he could sate it without much consequence. Cooking had been his task when Kanan had lived with him as well, as she could scale and gut a fish but she was clumsy at deboning it, and he could cut a side of carp off with the best. No carp had come near enough to shore for him tonight, but Hakkai prepared the few small fish, tossing their heads into salt for the morning congee out of habit more than anything, and what was left of his rice and a few vegetable scraps into stew.

He put his hands together with a polite, "Thank you for the meal," though there was nobody to hear it. He ate his meager portion in silence, hearing only the wind against the battered old walls and the distant roar of the waves.

He left what remained of the rice in the pot for the mendicant that would surely be howling at his door in the morning. He put his lantern out -- perhaps someone else could make use of his oil -- and departed for the shore, his home dark and completely empty behind him.

The night was thick and deep, but the moon was bright on the lagoon's surface. Hakkai pulled the raft loose of the mooring dock and got on, then began to paddle out. The baijiu bottle was heavy at his hip. He stroked the oar through the still waters towards the moon's reflection on the water, all too certain he could never reach it but deciding it a good enough target. He only looked back to see if he could still see the lanterns in town.

All too soon, it seemed, the only lights he could see were those from the castle on the hill. Hakkai wished he lacked the visual acuity to make them out, or at least the fortitude to spit his bitterness at it one more time, but alas, his mouth was too dry already. He took the bottle from his hip and turned it over in his hands. He uncorked it, inhaling deeply until he felt dizzy from the residue of alcohol, then exhaled it all out.

“Perhaps,” he mused, laughing to himself and the moon's reflection, “had I an ounce more courage, I could handle this faster. One knife to the belly, no more time wasted.” He bit his lip at the thought. “Kanan would hate it.”

At least, doing it this way, when he told Kanan in the next life, he could say it was an accident. He'd fatten the fish either way.

Hakkai threw the cork away and drank deep.

The moon passed overhead, and Hakkai drank, eventually letting his toes drag in the water. He could feel inebriation settling into him bit by bit, the liquor running right through his paltry dinner and through his veins; the sensation was like ice and heat in his blood, and like fog in his mind. He was cogent enough that the faint motions in the water were in his imagination, but drunk enough that he was still seeing them. Perhaps just fish, or dolphins in the distance, their fins flapping as they jumped on through the night. He just took another drink, in hopes that he could forget that it wasn't real, that his mind would numb out like a sleeping limb and make his rest that much easier.

The bottle was soon empty. The sky was dark but for the gleaming moon, the stars too high and distant for him to make them out, as he lay flat on his back with his legs and hand dangling in the water, drifting back and forth, back and forth with the gentle ebb of the tide. Hakkai's heart felt too slow, even to him, and every motion seemed too heavy. His legs were numb in the cold water, and he was sure he could already feel fish nibbling at his toenails. He knew he was drunk, very drunk, as he tried to remember Mother and Father's faces, Kanan's smile, things he was certain of.

But he couldn't. All he could do was wonder what was touching his hand. He rolled over to try to find out, but his legs tangled, and all of a sudden, he was in the water, whole hog.

His limbs were too heavy to move, and though the current was slow, he struggled against it. He was tired, so tired, and he knew he was too tired to go on, and he barely bothered trying. His clothes, heavy with the ocean, and his head, heavy with the drink, let him be dragged under.

The first rush of cold water into his lungs woke him up for a split second, and he gasped when he realized it was happening, eyes wide open into the void blackness of the water. That made the water pour in.

Instinct alone made him struggle. The thinking part of his mind that had decided this was the only rational course of action had fallen asleep drunk hours ago, but his base spirit still wanted to live.  _What for?_  He would have asked, his mind flicking back to the empty house, the empty paddocks, the empty pantry, his empty coffers, his empty life that soon would have been snatched away wholesale. He tried to make himself inhale, but as he opened his mouth again, arms still flailing fruitlessly, something touched his face.

Two human hands.

Hakkai felt two hands take his cheeks, hold his face still, and air filled his mouth. Through the blackness of the night and the obfuscating water, he caught a glimpse of crimson red hair reflecting the moonlight that filtered into the water, a flash of sun-gilded skin. Someone sealed their lips over his in a kiss like he'd only ever dreamed of, only to breathe air into his mouth and waterlogged lungs. Hakkai found himself entranced by that imagined kiss, by the hands he was sure he was only dreaming were touching him. Then, those hands slid around his body, and he was being pulled forward faster than any raft could row, water searing his skin as he was towed from the scene of his own suicide.

His head was above water, and then the ground was hard under his body, the sand sticking to every part of him. His vision was still fuzzy, fading, his lungs still too heavy. He swore he could hear someone cursing over him, even as those strong hands pressed on his chest.

Hakkai's vision went black for a second.

“Not like this,” someone said roughly, but he could have imagined it. He was being kissed again, water pulled from his mouth, and he coughed back, water sputtering from him as his body tried and failed to inhale.

Stop, he wanted to say, stop, I'm so cold, I'm so tired, let me rest. The person over him swore again, and though Hakkai's vision blurred at the edges as if he was still looking through water, blacking in and out like the moon weaving between clouds, he could swear he still saw hair so red it couldn't be human. Ragged breathing echoed over him, a few muted oaths, then something else was pressed to his lips. Something salty, something bitter, and then, something sweet touched his tongue. Hakkai found something warm and wet dripping onto his tongue and sliding down his throat, and all of a sudden, he was disgorging water like a spring newly tapped.

The burn of his efforts, the burn in his lungs, the pain that flared through his limbs and bones, and the alcohol that was numbing his mind and nothing else, it all became too much. Someone closed a big, warm, damp hand around his own, and Hakkai could have sworn he heard someone singing an old sea shanty as he slid from the muted shadows of the waking world into the void of unconsciousness.

_Is this it, then?_

Hakkai woke, peculiarly, to the rhythmic rush of waves behind him and to daylight touching his face. He blinked into the light and tried to rub the grit from his eyes, as conscious thought swam back to him in scraps. He was not in his bedroll, he was not home, and most curious of all, he was not dead. His clothes were damp and stuck to his skin, smelling of ocean, and his hand was closed tight and sore. He opened his palm, only to find a small pile of perfectly round white stones that nearly rolled off, and he unconsciously gripped them tight again, before putting them in his trouser pocket. Then, he gazed out to the ocean, wondering again why he wasn't waterlogged at the bottom of it.

The memory of hair too red to be real and a mouth covering his flashed through his mind, and Hakkai felt his chest squeeze tight. Had someone rescued him? Who? Where were they now? It hardly seemed real that he was alive, let alone that scrap of drunken recollection.

Yet, he recalled someone putting something in his hand, and those stones were heavy in his pocket.

Hakkai wasn't sure what to do with the jumble of thoughts in his head, but despite the heavy thoughts in his head, he had woken alive on the day after the last day he had thought he would be alive. He was alive despite drowning. Perhaps it was a sign he had something else to do with the worthless life he'd been living.


	2. The Unwanted and Unexpected Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai is awake on a morning where he didn't think he would wake up, and things only become more improbable from there.

**2: The Unwanted and Unexpected Visitors**

Sand fell from his clothes like a waterfall, and Hakkai faintly recalled that he should dust his shoulders and jacket and shake his pockets. At least he could be certain that he'd slept in sand.

He was having significant difficulty being certain of anything else.

He sank to kneel in front of his low table, alone with the quiet but for the distant chirping of birds. He felt over his chest a few times, as if to feel the lightness in his chest. He breathed in, as deep as he could, and listened to the air as it breezed through his windpipe, in and out, clear and easy. Not a rattle, not a gurgle, nothing. The absence of water in his lungs was as anathema to his perception of reality as the absence of pigs in his yard.

Stranger, he had been certain that there was a full bottle of _baijiu_ at his side last night, and that he had emptied the entirety of that bottle into his gut. He had watched Father celebrate good hauls with friends, sharing a bottle around with four or five others through the night, then wake in the morning retching it all back and complaining of his headache. Mother had scolded him every time that the drink made him sick every time and he should know better. Hakkai had hoped to avoid the hangover pains by simply never waking from the stupor, and yet, despite being very much alive, he felt nearly as clear-headed as he did every morning.

The only evidence that he'd even gone near the water last night was the sand in his sticky, damp clothes, the water still swishing in his ears, and those few memories of the water.

Confusion, as thick as swamp water, filled Hakkai's mind.

Hakkai could admit that he was a little woozy from the water in his ears and utterly befuddled from the curious discovery that there was none in his lungs. That he had no hangover and not even so much as a cough after a night like he’d had made him was very convincing evidence that he'd dreamed the whole thing, that all of yesterday had been a dream. Then, however, he recalled that there were no pigs in his paddock, sand in his clothes, and a handful of curious little pebbles that smelled of salt and sea air. He reached into his pocket and found them, looking over them one more time. There were a few dozen little pebbles, all no bigger than the toenail on his middle toe, but they were all beautiful, unearthly so; bright white, like little stars that had fallen from the sky into his palm. He touched his tongue to one, and tasted seawater. That told him that he’d been at the ocean-side, if nothing else, but the rest seemed all too unreal.

Especially those curious glimpses of shining gold skin and red hair in the water. That had to be a dream. Perhaps the rest was, too; nightmares borne of worries he couldn’t escape.

Waking this morning was almost like a nightmare, too. He hadn't expected to be alive today, and yet he was. He had a life that he wasn't certain he could do anything with, and yet, because he did live, he supposed he ought to.

Hakkai set the stones down on his kitchen work surface and checked his pot. Just as he recalled from the night before, there was still some rice from the previous day sitting in the bottom. He ladled some water in from the rainbarrel outside of his kitchen window, tossed in some of the fish heads he’d saved from last night's dinner, stoked the fire in his stove, and set about making tea as if this were any ordinary day.

He lost himself in the habit of breakfast, having to stop himself a few times from going to observe pigs that were no longer at the empty trough in the paddock, but just as the congee thickened up enough to be called a decent excuse for breakfast, there was a squeal from the front doorstep.

It took a physical effort for Hakkai not to groan. Today, of all days, _he_ would come; perhaps he was still waking from his nightmares?

No, Hakkai had expected him. Anyone could hear his hogs were gone from the road, so they just might think he had money. Hakkai hated to disappoint, but he also hated the obnoxious screeching from outside his door. He gathered all of his wits and prepared himself. (He hadn't even been prepared to be alive, how was he supposed to be prepared for this?)

Hakkai pushed the door open, the absolute opposite of surprised to find a man in ragged robes held in place with a bit of tattered rope kneeling at his threshold, wearing a reed basket over his head and with a splintering shakuhachi flute tucked into one of the holes in the basket so he could play without showing his face. Even without showing his face, however, Hakkai knew Sen Sou.

Sen Sou blew a loud, reedy noise that couldn't conceivably be called music, then shouted in a heavily enunciated baritone, “I greet you good morrow, Pig Farmer of the family Cho!”

“I’m afraid you’ve got my title wrong.” Hakkai knelt to match him, hating to loom over someone. “You surely see no pigs in my paddy, which I imagine is why you came.”

“Congratulations on the successful sale of your pigs!” Sen Sou pounded his hands on the ground. “A _honkyoku_ , in your honor!” Sen Sou returned the flute to his mouth and blew a few more caterwauling notes into it in a volume that could annoy a rooster. Sen Sou had explained once that he was “blowing Zen,” that playing was a form of meditation in his monastic practice, that mendicants of his order played such “original pieces” to appeal for charity from the gods and man alike, but there was no peace in Sen Sou's “music.” Hakkai winced, but crossed his arms.

“My pigs were not ready to sell, and I made no profit on their sale.”

“A tragedy!” Sen Sou didn’t sound sorry at all, but blew a few more notes, then flung a hand out. “An offering to the poor, in hopes that good karma may improve your fortunes!”

“Sen Sou, you know I have nothing to offer.” Hakkai raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps if you could play a song rather than your unfortunate ‘original pieces…’”

“Ah!” There was a growl in Sen Sou's timbre now, and Hakkai didn’t need to see Sen Sou’s face to know he was scowling. “Perhaps my song must be repeated until peace descends upon this household!” Sen Sou began to blow into his flute again, even louder, even worse, and each toot somehow angrier than the last. Hakkai winced as the traces of his hangover found him, and shouted to be heard:

“If you are truly so desperate that you’re coming to me, I may have enough congee to share!”

Sen Sou promptly threw his flute down, and Hakkai was reminded again that Sen Sou was not at all good at being a flutist (nor a monk, to be frank), and hustled into Hakkai’s home. “Fucking finally!” Hakkai heaved a sigh, trying not to wonder what he was going to do for lunch now (since the thought of going near the water right now was making his stomach roll), and went to the stove as Sen Sou seated himself at one of the always-empty cushions and yanked the basket from his head, shaking out sweat-damp hair and mopping a shock of that same curious yellow hair from his face. Sen Sou, gaunt and tired-looking, with eyes that always seemed to droop on a face that would be handsome if it ever smiled, gazed wearily at Hakkai from across the table. “Damn if everyone I meet isn’t flat broke today.”

“I wasn’t lying.” Hakkai dusted off a bowl and set it beside his. “This was meant to be two meals.”

“And so it will be,” Sen Sou muttered, gruff and merciless as ever.

“For one who lives in devotion to the Buddha,” Hakkai said, and dropped the first bowl of congee at Sen Sou’s place a little less gently than he really should have, “One would think the Buddha would provide better.”

“The Buddha put people like you in my path.” Sen Sou waited just long enough for Hakkai to sit before shoveling the first few bites of congee into his mouth. Hakkai observed him a moment, wondering how long he’d gone without a meal, and found himself considerably less bitter about not having any left for lunch. Even so, he uncharitably hoped that Sen Sou found the fish bones with his teeth and began to pick at his portion. Sen Sou swallowed hard, then actually shot Hakkai an expression that was either pity or an imitation of sympathy shaded by a face that didn’t seem to be able to smile. “Sucks about your pigs. And that bitch on the hill will be sending out her collectors soon, won’t she?” Sen Sou pulled a face. “What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one.” Hakkai’s appetite evaporated, and he nudged his bowl away. “I… for now, I’ll work at the rice farms in vain hopes that someone will be able to pay me in both food and money, fish for my dinner, and…” There was no “and.” Hakkai’s plan had already fallen through, and he didn’t relish the thought of trying to do it again since that would likely amount to naught but another failure. Sen Sou, eyes narrowed, twisted his gaze away, then started as he spotted the pebbles left on the table by the stove.

“Those. Why the fuck don’t you sell those?!” Sen Sou rocketed to his feet and grabbed the pebbles. “For fuck’s sake, they’re polished and everything!”

Hakkai raised an eyebrow and joined Sen Sou. “I’m not sure what you–”

Sen Sou held out the fistful of pebbles. “You complain about having no money, but you’ve got a veritable string of fucking pearls!”

“Pearls?” Hakkai’s eyes widened; he’d only seen drawings in the books Grandfather had left that looked like these. One time, when they were children, Kanan had found a pearl in an oyster Mother had served in their stew and broke one of her back baby teeth on the lumpy little rock. Mother had thrown it out. That pearl been gray and formless, and looked nothing like this. “These are polished?”

“It's rare they look like this naturally. They’re almost perfectly round.” Sen Sou held his hand out, and Hakkai opened his palm to accept them.

“I’ve never seen pearls like this; only a picture. Like perfect little tear drop made solid.” Hakkai looked to Sen Sou, and spat out a lie before he could demand explanation. “I found them on the beach.”

“You found treasure, then.” Sen Sou spoke through his teeth, low and urgent. “Sell them. Go to the next town and sell them. Give half of the profit to me as a finder’s fee, and you’ll still very likely have enough to pay your taxes!”

Hakkai gaped at the thought. He’d meant to die the night before, and had woken up with a chance to live. “I don’t believe it. It’s like a dream.”

"Wake up. It's real." Sen Sou shoved back from Hakkai and returned to the table and quickly shoveled in the last of the porridge in his bowl. "Come on," he said, very nearly still chewing. "Finish eating and get your shoes on."

Hakkai, still reeling a little from the stroke of luck that had hit him hard enough to shake his entire being, gaped at Sen Sou a moment longer, before setting the pearls down oh-so-carefully, then slumping back down to a sit to eat. Each bite was made heavy by a jaw set stiff with dense thought – who? Why? How? He had barely gotten his last bite into his mouth before Sen Sou was on his feet and yanking at his jacket.

"Move your ass. You don't want to be there with that when it's busy."

Sen Sou barely gave Hakkai time to tie his sandals on, instead shoving his helmet back on, gathering up his flute, and hurrying him out the door and onto the road. Hakkai had no chance to protest that his clothes were stiff from the seawater and he hadn't washed, but he also knew Sen Sou to be entirely unsympathetic. Sen Sou led him on the road to the market at a brisk march, brooking him no pauses, not for others passing or waving. Instead, he dragged Hakkai along for the entire long walk, brisk in pace and brusque in manners, until they reached the market the next town over.

Zhaoyang was near a major trade route, which meant that buying and selling was the business of the market. If this town were straining under Koushu's grip, it showed no signs of stress. There was still active business in the streets, vendors under canopies and on carpets selling jewelry and hair ornaments, whole cloth by the roll and clothing, even people setting up street grills for vegetables and skewers of fish and squid, but Sen Sou led Hakkai past with a white-knuckled grip on his arm. Hakkai hadn't been looking to shop anyway. Sen Sou all but threw Hakkai at one of the doors, declaring, “These people. Sell them there.” Hakkai, still stumbling, turned around and hoped he looked more confused than angry. Sen Sou shuffled a few steps away and plopped onto the ground, readying his flute, but before he could lift it to his mouth, he motioned to Hakkai again. “They're good people. Honest. Won't rip you off. Trust me.”

Hakkai very nearly objected, until it came to him: Sen Sou would know that. He likely had an eye for generosity, for generous people or at least for opportunities, and had probably had the opportunity to observe everyone in the market when he came here begging. He certainly knew when to attempt to appeal to Hakkai, and likely to anyone else. Sen Sou was trying to be helpful. Hakkai gave him a sharp nod, hoping it conveyed the respect that Sen Sou was wont to dismiss if he'd tried to put it into words, then entered the building.

Hakkai faced the appraiser with apprehension in his throat, and put the pearls down with an explanation: "I pulled a string of oysters, and found all of these upon shucking them."

To Hakkai's relief, the appraiser smiled and put an eyeglass to his face. "What good fortune, young man!" The appraiser took the pearls in hand and examined them, one by one. "They all still smell of seawater." He rolled them in his hand, pushing on them. "Curiously good quality. You have made quite a find!" The appraiser gave Hakkai's arm a clumsy pat, which Hakkai stood and took with an awkward, anxious smile. "Such good fortune should be rewarded -- and repeated, if you can dive the same spot again, if you catch my drift." The appraiser winked, then gathered the pearls into a little silk bag.

Then, the money came out. Four strings of coins, each identical to the one the trader had given Hakkai for his pigs before cutting away for recompense on their feed, and the appraiser was only counting back a few. "For the lot, but with a finder's fee. Pearls these fine will be worth much to the right customer, but it may take me some time to find them."

"Yes, yes, that's fine." Hakkai didn't even flinch as the appraiser cut away a few coins, not caring that he would likely resell the pearls for three times as much. That was very nearly his entire fee for the season, and for nothing other than a stroke of good fortune chasing his ultimate despair.

The coins were too heavy in his pocket, and Hakkai tied his sash tight in the vain hopes that his trousers wouldn't drag down to his ankles. However, the weight didn't keep him from jumping when he opened the door and was greeted with a blast of flute from beside him.

"Congratulations on your good fortune!" Sen Sou thrust a hand out and motioned to everyone around them. "Allow me to tell your tale for the admiration of all!"

Hakkai hoped the anger didn't burn too brightly in his cheeks as he pulled the cut string of coins from his pocket and put it in Sen Sou's open hand. "I had intended to give you a share, you know."

Sen Sou's basket tipped as he studied the money through the gaps. Then, he murmured, "Trust, but verify." He tucked the coins into a sack at his waist. “Your generosity is appreciated.” Hakkai couldn't tell if he meant it or not, but he smiled nonetheless.

“You did help, after all.”

“Hmph.” Sen Sou sniffed under the basket, and turned his head a little as if not looking at Hakkai. “There's an actual smile.” Hakkai raised an eyebrow, but Sen Sou waved his hand like he was sending off a fly. “Off with you. I've got work to do around here today.”

“If by work, you mean entertaining the passers-by with your 'original pieces,' I wish you the best.” Hakkai chuckled to himself, actually feeling the humor.

The coins were still heavy in his pocket, so Hakkai lightened his load just a little to buy some vegetables for the evening meal, since he felt enough like living to have one. Then, he counted what was left. Even before giving a portion to Sen Sou, even before shopping, it hadn't been enough, but it was close. Perhaps if he could get work like Goku had said, he really could make it up.

Hakkai stopped home long enough to hide the coins he had in a box under his father's old clothes and to put on fresh trousers, then hurried towards the paddies outside of town. He passed Goku on the road, who was pulling a rickshaw of nets and traps to the docks, but he grinned to see Hakkai and pointed. “Go to old man Ren's farm, he needs a waterboy!”

“Thank you very much, I'll repay your kindness!” Hakkai beamed at him and hurried on his way. Goku had looked so happy when they parted ways, surely glad to be of help, and it put an extra spring in his step as he bounded down the road.

Hakkai spent the afternoon running buckets of water from the sluice and into the paddies to help hydrate the men and women who'd been working in the fields all day. Mindless work, but it was contentment to have something to do with himself, and it let his mind wander, waltzing precariously backwards through the events of the last day. The more distant the night before was, the longer the sun stretched his shadow across the earth, the more that night seemed like a dream, something he'd imagined in the depths of his despair. The memories he had were fuzzy at best, down to imagining someone had rescued him. Surely, that was just his fevered mind misremembering being washed ashore.

(The tide hadn't felt strong enough, no, and he'd rowed out a long way, but there was no other logical explanation.)

Some of it had happened. He had gotten wet somehow. He had been ready to end his life. It was fate's hand that he'd failed in that, as so many other things had. The real question was where the pearls had come from, and again, there was only one logical explanation: he'd gone pearl diving after his suicide attempt had failed and had been too drunk to remember doing it.

It was flimsy, but he had no other ideas.

When the sun sank low and Hakkai went to the farm's paymaster for his share, and when all he got was a bag of rice and a single coin, Hakkai did get one more idea: Go back to the beach and see if he'd dropped any pearls. He didn't consider himself especially greedy, but there were things he needed, things he did want. He'd simply never been able to hold on to the things he wanted. For now, he just wanted to keep his home, and if he could do just that, maybe he could work upwards from there.

Perhaps, he thought with wry amusement, he'd see that red and gold figure from his dreams in the water's reflection again. He somewhat regretted that his dreams had been so very blurry.

The seagulls were calling down the day from Hakkai's rooftop as he put the rice through the kitchen window, not quite breaking his stride as he walked down the slope, past the empty paddock and down the rocky incline into the sand. As the water came into view, however, so did a large shadow strewn on the beach, a curious lump surrounded by crying gulls that pecked and scratched at it. Hakkai wondered if perhaps the raft had washed ashore now, too, but no, the raft was very much hard edges and angles, and this looked more organic, an irregular curve. Hakkai's heart sank -- the net those village boys had left, he'd never pulled it out, had he?

"Curse my eyes if my negligence has killed a dolphin," he sighed, then resigned himself to cleaning up the mess. He didn't care for dolphin meat, but Goku would eat anything and had quite an appetite. He hurried towards the net, calling at the birds to clear off, but when they did, it became clear that it wasn't a fish. No fish was quite that brilliant shade of red. Hakkai's heart lurched, because even in the pink light of sunset, that was the same shade of red he'd seen on whoever had been in the water with him. As Hakkai skidded to a halt in the fine sand, he could see a lanky form huddled up on the strand, the sun-bronzed skin of his sculpted bare back and legs still damp and sand-scuffed. The skin on his back was scratched raw in places, with thin lines from the net dragged deep into the flesh. Hakkai could hear him swearing in an unfamiliar dialect, his voice low and deep like the pluck of the lowest string on a lute and with the same resonance. The man struggled against the net, then pounded a fist on the sand, and Hakkai felt the impact as if on his own heart. He took a knee in front of him and touched his back, and the man jumped, then lifted his head.

Hakkai was stricken. Something about that face made his head swim. He looked familiar, all told, but Hakkai was certain he'd never seen this person before, and certainly nobody like him. He was, singularly, strikingly handsome. He certainly had no business lying about looking as rakish and masculine as he did, exotic and distinct, those too-long legs splayed beneath a muscular frame, with such fine features, those elegant cheekbones, that sculpted nose and jaw, those long eyelashes, and despite two scars running down his cheek, he was a stunning vision to behold. Hakkai would know if he'd seen this man before, and yet he still looked so familiar. Something curious crossed his face, plain in his eyes, that he was considering Hakkai in much the way Hakkai was considering him.

Then, he smiled through the net.

“Good evenin'.” His dialect sounded rough, even compared to the bumpkins Hakkai was used to speaking with every day, but his timbre was friendly enough. “Name's Gojyo. What's yours?”

“Er, I am Cho Hakkai.” Hakkai cocked his head curiously, as Gojyo sat up, shifting uncomfortably against the strands of the net.

“Well, Mister Cho Hakkai, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Now, ya might find it odd for me to ask a favor seeing as how we just met, but, uh...” He lifted the strands of net strewn over his arms with a sheepish smile. “Ya think you could help me out?”

Hakkai recalled again, so faintly now the way such distant dreams all were recalled, the face and red hair he thought he'd seen in the water. Then, he began to search for the end of the net with a smile returned and a simple, “I don't see at all why not.”

 


	3. The Fish Out Of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai's acquaintance is a little stranger than he first appeared...

**3: The Fish Out of Water**

Hakkai did hate nets so. His eyes had never been especially strong, so finding his way through the thin lines to the end was more than troublesome. Still, Gojyo still struggled a little against the lines, and Hakkai imagined he had much the same issue and likely less patience, especially when the gulls had been scratching at his skin. He finally found the weighted ends and threw the weights over Gojyo's head, letting him loose. “There you are, free at last.”

“Thanks.” Gojyo pushed himself from a kneel to a stand, but the moment he got his feet under him, he collapsed back to a heap on his backside, face twisted with pain. Hakkai got his hands under his arms and helped him back to a stand, but even leaning on him, Gojyo's legs were shaking and stumbling under him. "Thanks," he muttered again, leaning hard on Hakkai's shoulder.

"It's alright, just -- steady, now." Hakkai gripped his elbows, frowning to himself. Gojyo wobbled like a drunk on his feet, and Hakkai had to wonder if he'd been imbibing or if he were ill. One or the other might explain how a man who otherwise looked completely fit ended up helplessly tangled in a net. He staggered up the beach, leaning heavily on Hakkai and grunting and panting between steps, and Hakkai found himself supporting most of Gojyo's weight until he'd worked the both of them through the door and into the house. Hakkai grabbed a rag from his stove and dusted the sand off of Gojyo, as he sighed with relief and extended his palms towards the low fire in the stove.

“Damn, that's nice.” Languid contentment looked very right on Gojyo, nearly as much as his own bronzed skin. Hakkai eyed him a moment longer, admiring his form – he was singular, truly – then noticing again the criss-cross of thin lines that marred him.

“Forgive me, I'd offer you clothing, but it appears you'd bleed on them.” Hakkai filled a basin from the rainbarrel, and Gojyo turned his head at the splash of the ladle in the water. Hakkai put the rag in the basin and wrung it out, then held it up. “Sit on the cushion nearest the stove, if you would. I'd like to clean your wounds.”

Gojyo, seeming to look past Hakkai with a trace of his easy smile, shrugged his shoulders, then shuffled carefully to the cushion. “That's awful kind of ya. Thanks, mate.”

“It's no trouble, really.” Hakkai watched Gojyo ease himself down, sighing all the way as he slumped forward and tucked his feet under his thighs in a cross-legged sit, then knelt down behind him, rag in hand. He set the basin over the fire. Gojyo shivered a little as Hakkai ran the rag down one of the thin cuts on his back. Gojyo settled in, making a content noise as the water ran down the lines of his muscles, and Hakkai smiled outwardly, despite the questions nagging at him. Gojyo seemed friendly enough, so asking didn't seem to be beyond the pale: “I must ask, wherever are you from?”

“District or two over.” Gojyo made a vague motion south and east. Hakkai hummed, wondering where exactly he meant. “I kinda lost track, honestly; I tend to move around a lot.”

“I see.” A curious answer, and Hakkai could tell he was avoiding saying something or other. However, it was likely he had good reasons for not wanting to give full details, and Hakkai didn't want to push. Hakkai moved to one of the deeper cuts, and a more direct question: “And however did you end up here, naked, and trapped in a fishing net?”

“Oh. That.” Hakkai could plainly hear the sheepish grin. “Uh, so, I was fishing, and there was a pretty decent wave that knocked me in, and I can't swim so well.” Gojyo's shoulders hunched towards his (suddenly red) ears. “I kinda got carried off in the current.” He laughed through his nose. “I took my clothes off 'cause they were weighing me down, but then I ended up in the net and I was kinda dazed, so I was having trouble getting out. Lucky me, I washed ashore, right?”

“Yes, very lucky.” Hakkai hummed, wondering if perhaps his stretch of the strand hadn't been blessed in the night, and gingerly dipped the rag into the warmed basin to clean one of the lines on Gojyo's shoulder. Gojyo hissed a little.

“Ow, damn.” He rubbed at it. “It stings now.”

“Sorry; I want to clean it well so it won't fester, and I've learned that warm water is better for cleaning things, it loosens dirt more.” Hakkai withdrew a bit as Gojyo twisted to look at the wound, then licked at it a little. “Ah, no, that won't help.”

“Eh, I've gotten hurt before.” Gojyo grinned a bit, but smeared it dry and let Hakkai keep at cleaning it. “How 'bout you, then? That proper voice, and it sounds like you got more than a little brains on ya, you sound like the rich people that pass through. What's someone like you doing living out here?”

Hakkai laughed, albeit reluctantly. “Er, I was born here. I've lived my entire life in this town, in this house, even.” He cleaned a few more of the net lines, and Gojyo hunkered down to force himself to say still.

“Well, you don't sound like it. Ain't nobody out here talks like you.”

“Not as much, no.” Hakkai hesitated and scraped out a deeper line on Gojyo's back, resulting in a muffled swear. “But, er, my grandfather lived in Beijing most of his life. He was an adviser to a general and tutored a prince.”

“Whoa, for real?” Gojyo twisted around, but Hakkai put both hands on his shoulders and turned him back.

“Yes, it's true. He brought some of his books with him when he came here, I could show you.”

“I guess he tutored you too, huh?” Gojyo chuckled, and Hakkai hummed agreement, then ran the cloth gently over Gojyo's back and arms a few more times.

“He taught my sister and I the same way he taught the young prince. Reading, writing, proper manners – it's all a bit wasted here, but I enjoy the practice.”

“You and your sister, huh?” Gojyo cocked his head. “I guess she doesn't live here no more, huh?”

“No. She doesn't.” Hakkai had clipped the words short without meaning to, and cleared his throat, then used the drier side of the rag to pat his back down. “I believe that will do. I suppose your clothing was lost in the current, but I've some spares.”

Gojyo twisted around to watch him again as he dug into the storage bin. Hakkai had only one spare set of clothes for himself, but his father's old things would have fit Gojyo better anyway. Father had been broader through the shoulders, a bit thicker with muscle, and Gojyo, too, had that dense, strong build. Hakkai wouldn't miss the clothing if Gojyo left with it. He passed Gojyo a set of trousers and a tunic, and Gojyo dressed quickly, but struggled with the clasps until Hakkai leaned down and helped him. “Do they dress differently where you're from?”

“Uh, yeah. Not like this.” Gojyo then began to pick at the fabric, grimacing, and Hakkai frowned to himself.

“I do apologize, they may be a bit stiff with age.” Gojyo didn't seem to hear him, preoccupied with scratching his back, and Hakkai tried not to show annoyance. “They're simple, and the fabric isn't particularly fine, but it's what I have.”

“Hey, no, it's fine, it's great!” Gojyo quickly waved his hands in front of him. “Just, uh, I'm not used to, uh. These clothes. Like this.” He gestured, rolling his gaze away from Hakkai. “Usually, my stuff is less, uh. Uh...”

Hakkai could see him visibly struggling, mouth twisted up, and prompted, “Restrictive?”

“Yeah, that.” Gojyo tugged the fall of the tunic away from his skin. “Plus, it's rubbin' on the cuts. But, uh, I'm mostly glad you got anything for me at all.” He put on a grin. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.” Hakkai knew he was raising his eyebrows at Gojyo, curious now rather than put out. He had traveled to a few nearby districts helping Mother with the pigs or helping Father buy supplies, but nobody had dressed especially differently, with the exception of more common dyes further inland or the rare silk garment owned by some fortunate person or other. Hakkai had heard of cotton becoming more common in some places than flax, but cotton rarely made it this far from the trade routes at an affordable price. Still, he couldn't know the whole world, and while the notion that Gojyo was either lying or simply withholding something hadn't left him, Gojyo didn't seem malicious in the slightest. Something about him made Hakkai want to take care of him, really. “Were you hungry?”

Gojyo nodded eagerly. “I ain't eaten all day, yeah.” Hakkai smiled to himself and took up the vegetables he'd bought earlier in the day. Good meals were best shared with others. Gojyo settled on the cushion, observing Hakkai as he set about putting the dish together and occasionally absently scratching at his ribcage. “So, hey, what're you doing?”

“Preparing dinner. I don't have any fish today, but I've got rice and vegetables and some soy sauce. It's been some time since I made a stir fry.”

“It sounds awesome.” Gojyo splayed out and propped himself up on an elbow. “You mind if I watch?”

Hakkai felt his heart warm a little, recalling how Kanan would observe him cook and make little jokes as he worked. “Not in the slightest.”

Gojyo made conversation as Hakkai cooked, asking about the ingredients and what he was doing, as if he'd never seen anyone cook before. When Hakkai put down a steaming hot bowl of rice topped with sizzling vegetables, he reached in with a hand and popped the first bite of pepper in, chewing gingerly. Hakkai cleared his throat and offered him a pair of chopsticks, and Gojyo, still chewing with some difficulty through his piping-hot mouthful, took them. Hakkai noticed Gojyo watch him, but he clumsily took the next bite off of his chopsticks, before fumbling and dropping them.

Strange, yes. Gojyo was clearly from much further away than he said. However, Hakkai couldn't say he minded. He was certain everyone had things they'd rather not talk about, and anyway, it was nice to bring out Kanan's old bowl again. Gojyo's hands were bigger and stronger, but he held the bowl in his palm the same way she used to.

It only seemed right to roll out Kanan's old bedroll once he'd washed out the wok and covered up the leftover rice. It was only once he had it perfectly smoothed out, from the wrinkled edges she'd mended to the little patch where she'd embroidered her name, that he thought to ask, “Did you have anywhere to stay the night?”

Gojyo, still lounging and licking his teeth, had watched Hakkai with obvious curiosity, and shook his head. “Hadn't thought much about it.”

“If that's so, you are welcome to stay.” He gestured to the open bedroll. Gojyo rose curiously, nudging the bedroll with his toe, then lowered himself onto it.

“You sure? Man, you're awful nice.” He heaved a deep sigh and stretched himself out, his spine popping in a few spots, and he groaned nearly obscenely. Hakkai couldn't help but chuckle a little; Gojyo had obviously gone a few too many nights without seeing the inside of a bedroll. Hakkai laid his bedroll out a few paces away from Gojyo's, then put out the lanterns.

“Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

Hakkai laid down, and Gojyo stretched out beside him, grunting a little as he pointed his toes, then curled up. Hakkai could see him in the pale moonlight floating through the room, smiling like a child as he nestled down into the bedroll. His eyes slipped shut, long eyelashes fluttering a little, his breathing evened out quickly, and Hakkai too closed his eyes and let himself be lulled by the rhythmic hush of Gojyo breathing.

He felt somehow secure by that noise.

* * *

 

Hakkai somehow still expected to wake to the clamor of the pigs in the pen. Instead, it was a different clatter that roused him, clanking and rattling. Hakkai sat up to see Gojyo, awake, naked again, his long hair wet and sticking to the side of his face and shoulders, rummaging through his kitchen supplies. Hakkai rubbed the grit from his eyes, then cleared his throat.

“Good morning. What are you looking for?”

Gojyo jumped a little, then grinned toothily at Hakkai. “Oh, uh, mornin'! I was lookin' for breakfast, and last night I saw you fishin' around here puttin' this and that in the pot, so I was looking for, y'know...” Gojyo gesticulated a little. “This and that. To put in the pot.”

Hakkai raised an eyebrow, then stood and joined Gojyo. “I'm afraid there's not much of 'this and that' around. I have to prepare it, you see.” He realized he was saying it slowly, like he would to a child, but since Gojyo was nodding just as slowly, he stuck with it. “I'll make some breakfast, if you help.”

That got him grinning. “Yeah, I can help, jus' tell me what to do!”

With that, Hakkai set Gojyo to task, adding water to the leftover rice and making him stir, as he chopped up the last of the scallions. He was going through the vegetable scraps, deciding what to keep for stock and what to put into the traps, when he heard Gojyo hiss and swear. He looked up to see Gojyo had dropped the paddle and was pulling his entire hand out of the bubbling pot, shaking it off and grousing under his breath. Hakkai hurried to his side and grabbed his wrist. “What did you do?”

“There were bubbles!” Gojyo pointed at the pot, glowering at it as if it was the soup's fault. “Usually when you see bubbles coming up like that, there's a crab, so I was gonna grab the crab and--”

“It was boiling. Water bubbles like that when it boils.” Gojyo had scalded his hand, leaving it bright red. Hakkai clicked his tongue a few times, then led Gojyo to the rainbarrel and dipped his hand into the cold water. It paled quickly, and Gojyo made a face and flexed his fingers. Hakkai shook his head. “Goodness, one would think you'd never boiled tea before.”

“I haven't.” Gojyo sulked, but he had a sheepish smile on under the fall of his hair. Hakkai found himself raising his eyebrow again.

“Have you seen a pot of boiling water before? My mother slapped my hand with a spoon when I was a child, and I quickly learned better.”

“My mother never did that sort of thing.” Gojyo jerked his head towards the pot. “I don't know so much what I'm doing.” Then he grinned at Hakkai. “It's nice when you do it.”

Hakkai found himself frowning again. "It's something I have to do. Nobody's going to take care of me but myself. I suppose it was nice when I had others to do it for, but..." He trailed off, realizing he was still holding Gojyo's hand in the chilly water and that Gojyo was staring at him. Not unkindly, but definitely staring. Hakkai gingerly let go of his hand. "Keep it in there for a bit so it doesn't swell too badly. I can take care of the rest."

"Sure, I can stand here," Gojyo chuckled, shoulders hunched to his ears, a little color in his cheeks. Hakkai was beginning to find that Gojyo was very good at looking embarrassed.

Fortunately, the congee didn't burn to the bottom of the pot during the distraction, and when it tightened up enough to serve, Gojyo pulled his hand out to show it wasn't scalded badly. "I've been hurt worse before, like I said. The net last night was worse than this." He dried his hand on his pants, as Hakkai clicked his tongue again.

"If you're as absent-minded as you seem, I'm not surprised you're a bit injury-prone. Perhaps I should explain the concept of convection, or of heat in the first place: that a pot of water over a fire will become hot." He shook his head again, wondering what sort of life Gojyo must have lived up until now. Gojyo shrugged as he sat again.

"Hey, it's not like I go out tryin' to hurt myself. It just, you know, happens." Gojyo looked down into the hot bowl Hakkai passed him, until he passed a spoon to go with it. Hakkai took a few bites, and Gojyo did the same.

They ate in content silence, until Hakkai dared to broach a question he'd had to ask of himself just the day before: “Where will you go next?”

“Mm?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow and swallowed his next bite particularly hard, mouth and throat working. “You mean, like, after this? I dunno, wasn't really planning on much.”

Hakkai puzzled over this, as Gojyo continued to eat with surprising enthusiasm. “Were you going to go home?”

“Don't really have anywhere to go. It's not like I have a house, like this.” Gojyo stomped his bare foot on the floor beneath them, a pained expression flashing over him. “I dunno, I guess I figured I'd keep doing what I was doing.”

“And what was that?” Hakkai cocked his head, and Gojyo shrugged.

“Getting by, however I gotta.” He kept his eyes low, as Hakkai studied him.

Inspiration, or hope, or something that tasted very much like both, crept in like tea filtering into warm water. “If you've no desire to move on, I will have an empty bedroll and a full bowl for you tonight the same as last night.”

Gojyo straightened up, grinning as if he'd been just waiting for Hakkai to offer. “You mean that?”

“I do.” Hakkai gestured to the house. “I don't mind the company. It can be a bit quiet here, alone. I'll ask you to help earn your keep, but you're welcome to stay for as long as you should like.”

“I don't mind helping, not one bit.” Gojyo grinned broadly from across the table, cocking his head, eyes glimmering. “Just, uh, tell me what you need me to do.”

Hakkai got the feeling there would be a lot to tell.

Gojyo didn't have shoes, of course, and Hakkai's father's old sandals were so worn out that he would have been embarrassed to even offer them. Gojyo didn't ask for shoes, a small relief, but Hakkai still caught him pulling faces behind his back as they trekked down towards the water, Hakkai carrying all of the traps in his arms. Gojyo also seemed a little anxious as they got close, eyebrows raised and still itching at his arms. “Were you fishing today?”

“No, just traps.” Hakkai demonstrated, showing him one of the little cages with a chunk of onion inside.

“Oh. Okay.” Gojyo then hunched forward to whisper, “And, uh, nets?”

Hakkai shook his head. “Not today. I use them if I want an especially large haul, such as if I were planning a large meal, but I've had no cause to make one of late, and despite the efficiency, I find that the nets can damage the meat.”

“Uh huh. Yeah.” Gojyo rubbed his forearm, over one of the deeper scratches, then eyed the traps suspiciously and eased a step back up the sand. “Just, uh, I'm gonna stay back here.”

Hakkai pursed his lips. “I'm putting out extra to make certain I catch enough for you, too. Could you kindly help me anchor them?” He showed Gojyo how he anchored the trap into the sand, drilling it down deep, and though Gojyo made another face, he acquiesced, getting down and digging them in. He didn't get them as deep as Hakkai did, but he made a valiant effort, good enough for one who had never done it before. Hakkai suspected he likely hadn't. “How do you normally catch your dinner?”

“Uh, y'know. How everyone else does.” Gojyo pinked a little, but it might have just been the effort of jamming the next anchor in a little deeper. Hakkai hummed, keeping the groundswell of questions to himself.

He was certain Gojyo was lying, though about what he had to lie eluded him. However, his nerves seemed to fade as Hakkai put the traps into the water, and he nodded to himself a few times. “They're not too deep,” he muttered.

“What's that?” Hakkai faced him, and Gojyo set his hands in his pockets with a little shrug.

“It'll be easy to get 'em out tonight.” He shifted his weight, gaze dodging Hakkai's out towards the open ocean. “So, where to now?”

“The fields. If I heard correctly, the rice terraces nearest the trade route are in need of day workers.” Hakkai started on the path up towards the town. Gojyo hesitated, still looking out past the traps, then turned to follow Hakkai.

Hakkai noticed he still grimaced every few steps, and still turned to face the water as he followed. Gojyo was an odd one, to be certain, but Hakkai couldn't say he himself wasn't odd. Even if he seemed more than a little out of place here, Hakkai was very happy to have him. Even strange company was better than no company, and Goku had told him he was a good teacher. He would do his best not to mind guiding Gojyo through a world he acted like he'd never walked in before.

 


	4. The Toad in the Well Has a Day in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo has much more to learn about the place he's arrived in than he realized, as Hakkai lays plain the reality of his town's situation.

**4: The Toad in the Well Has a Day in the Sun**

Gojyo had obviously never worked in a rice paddy a single day in his life. From the way he sloshed roughly through the reeds with little mind for the stalks, stumbling in the undergrowth, to the way he glowered at the sun that had turned from temperate and comfortable in the early morning to a humid autumn midday, he was obviously unused to both the environs and the hard work. Hakkai was certain of this when he threw down his rake for the fifth time in the two hours they'd been working to sit in the low water, fanning himself and griping under his breath.

“This is stupid, why do we gotta do this?”

“Because,” Hakkai explained for the fifth time, “The water's evaporated from the paddies, but the fields need maintenance before the sluice is opened again. If we don't clear away the dead grass and weeds that have gathered around the roots, the rice won't grow as well and there will be less to eat.”

“Yeah, but why's it gotta be us doing it?!” Gojyo groaned and rolled back to his feet, smearing at his brow again, and Hakkai sighed, as he suppressed for the fifth time that he needed rice to eat that night, and Gojyo was a second mouth to feed and doing less and less to help feed it. Gojyo was always a few steps behind him, always missing clumps of weeds, and more or less just throwing his rake around, and Hakkai found himself doubling back to clean up after him. He reminded himself, for the fifth time, that Gojyo was obviously learning. Never mind that this was work a child could do, and Hakkai had as a little child. It made Hakkai wonder what the man had done with the rest of his life.

He briefly took to the fanciful notion that Gojyo was some runaway prince from a distant kingdom who'd never worked a day in his life until now. He certainly wilted like a cultivated flower in the heat, sweat-damp hair stuck to his skin, face flushed and lips strangely pale.

“The sooner we get through this terrace, the sooner we can start on the next one.” Hakkai dug his rake in to pull up another clump of weeds and algae from around the roots of the rice. “And the lower we get on the terraces, the less the sun will beat on our heads.”

That seemed to motivate Gojyo, and he shuffled lazily behind Hakkai, splashing through the shallow water and dragging the rake through the tangles. Hakkai withheld a sigh, and went on explaining like he would to someone who'd never worked with rice before, “It's important that we clear the fields. Everyone needs the rice, but the farms have to ship a lot to make up their tribute costs, so we really have to put our backs into it to ensure there's enough for everyone to eat and for the farms to ship.”

“Tribute costs?” Gojyo's brow furrowed, but he shrugged. “It looks like there's plenty of rice around.”

“You don't quite fathom how much rice needs to be shipped.” Hakkai smiled wryly, but as he swung the rake again, there was a whistle from the path above.

“Hakkai!” Hakkai and Gojyo turned to see Goku on the dirt road that divided the north and south faces of the hill, bearing a barrel on his back and a ladle hooked in his belt. “Hey, Hakkai, new guy, I got some water for ya!”

Hakkai accepted the ladle of water Goku offered him, drinking deep. Gojyo drank even faster than him, then grinned at Goku and mussed his hair. “Hey, thanks, kid. Think I could bother ya for a little more?”

Goku, lit with delight, chuckled and took out another ladle. “Sure, why not?”

Gojyo bowed his head forward. “Just dump it right on top of me, if ya could.” Goku snorted, but poured the water over Gojyo's hair and back. Gojyo groaned relief and slicked the water down over his face and collar. “Damn, you're a lifesaver!” He mussed Goku's hair again. “Hey, Hakkai, you know this awesome guy?”

“I'm Goku!” Goku chuckled and bowed a little. “I ain't seen you around before, what's your name?”

“Gojyo.”

“He's been traveling, so he said,” Hakkai pitched in, as he took the opportunity to sit on the edge of the step and stretch his arms. “He's lost, and I found him tangled in a fishing net on my beach last night. I invited him to stay with me for a bit.”

“Oh, wow, that's awful nice of ya!” Goku jostled Gojyo's ribs. “You made an impression, huh? Jeez, even little kids know to be careful with the nets!”

"Yeah, well, I ain't no little kid." Gojyo winked at Goku. "Ain't like I'm you, short stuff."

"Hey!" Goku swatted Gojyo's arm. "I'm exactly as tall as I'm supposed to be! That's what Sen Sou says, anyway."

"Did he tell ya you were a shrimp, too? 'Cause ya are. It's alright to be a shrimp, shrimp are delicious." Gojyo grinned with all his teeth, and Goku headbutted him in the chest, knocking him back a few steps.

"I might be a delicious shrimp, but at least I ain't some stringy-bean-pole dork lazin' around in the wrong fields!" Goku grinned to himself as Gojyo regained his balance and marched back towards him.

"I like your style, shorty." Gojyo gave his hair a particularly rough ruffle, almost shifting Goku's balance this time. "Why ain't you off playin' with the kids back in town?"

"Pfft." Goku scoffed and rolled his eyes, then chuckled a little. "I'm a man, I got work to do. 'Sides, I like what I do!” He hoisted the barrel enthusiastically, sloshing the water around, then hesitantly adding, “It might look boring, but I get restless if I'm not doing something."

Hakkai interjected before Gojyo could retort. “Your hard work is appreciated, of course.”

“Heh, thanks.” Goku rubbed the back of his head. “I better keep at it. The guys on the next hill need water too.” He adjusted his barrel back to his shoulders and jogged off, waving. “See ya 'round, Gojyo! Don't trip on the reeds!”

“Yeah, yeah, don't dump water all over yourself, ya brat! Save enough for everyone else!” Gojyo laughed to himself, and Hakkai extended his arm from his perch gave his leg a gentle swat. Gojyo jumped a little, then rubbed it. “I'm just teasing--”

“Please be kind to him.” Hakkai mopped his brow and lifted himself back to a stand. “Goku has it as hard as any of us, perhaps harder.” He took up his rake and pivoted back to working, as Gojyo slowly turned, brow furrowed, and sloshed along a few steps behind him, making a few lazy swings at the undergrowth, but asking:

“What do you mean?”

“He lives alone, like I do, and he's younger than me.” Hakkai pursed his lips; it was easy to forget that not everyone knew everything he did, and he had to keep reminding himself. “Goku is well-known in town; he was found abandoned on the road as a small child by some traders, and was taken in by the village elder. He was troublesome, though, mischievous and temperamental.” Hakkai sighed to remember it, stolen food, market tables overturned during tantrums, screaming that echoed in the streets: “He actually caused some destruction, here and there, and it made him no allies. It was only the village elder's firm control and lessons from a mendicant on meditation that helped calm him.”

“You gotta be kidding.” Gojyo smeared at his damp hair again, frowning. “He seems like a good kid.”

“He is. He's stepped up to the plate since his guardian passed. Nobody else will keep a roof over his head, after all.” Hakkai swung the rake a little harder, grunting with effort at a particularly thick tangle, then murmured, “He works harder than anyone to earn his tribute funds, because nobody else will. Nobody can ask anyone else to take care of them. Even those children you saw running in the streets were likely just going down to the waterside to put out nets and lines to catch their dinner while their parents work the fields.”

Gojyo had stopped pretending to work, instead just following a step behind, shaking his head. “Kids like him ought'a be having fun.”

“Or schooling,” Hakkai found himself saying, then sighed. “No, nobody really has time for that. Everyone has to pull their weight, and if I'm being honest, Goku pulls more than most. He'd be completely on his own if he lost his home. That mendicant I mentioned still seems to favor him, and he'd do what he could for Goku if it came to it, but there's very little a penniless monk could do.” Hakkai halted, rolling his shoulders back to ease the ache in his bones. “For now, he's in the same boat as the rest of us. He's just another hardworking young man who still looks like a child sometimes.”

He could remember the dumpling-cheeked boy who used to chase the village elder around when the elder was visiting with Grandfather, who smiled so sweetly when he wanted to; who lost his temper so quickly, but always cried and begged forgiveness when he calmed, who always had an adoring smile for Sen Sou in his basket helmet or even for Hakkai and Kanan when they tried to give him lessons. Goku's smile hardly seemed a shadow of what it had been then. Gojyo was frowning too, mirroring him.

“I don't get it.”

Hakkai glanced back over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems like all you talk about is getting food and money, money and food.” Gojyo scrunched his face up. “Why are you so bent out of shape about money and food?”

Hakkai leveled Gojyo with a hard stare. “Because we need them to survive. Are those things not needed to live where you came from?”

“Well, sure, of course.” Gojyo rolled his eyes. “But you always talk like there's not enough to go around. The fields look fine, and it seems like everyone is doing something to earn money.”

Hakkai pursed his lips. “You're from further away than I thought, then.” He stood beside Gojyo and pointed to the hill on the outskirts of the town. “Look over there. Do you see that home on the hill in the west?” Gojyo squinted, and nodded. “That castle is the seat of Lady Gyokumen Koushu Maoh, who owns all the land you've walked on since you and I met.”

“She owns it? You said that was your house we were in.”

“It is, technically, but she owns the ground under it and around it. The landlord or landlady's duty here is to divide the land by fief, and they charge tribute or rent for us to use it.” Hakkai tapped a toe to the ground. “However, once things were established many generations ago, it became a matter of passing land from parent to child. So, the land I live on is mine by deed, but the landlord's by noble right, and I must pay tribute each season to continue to own it. Everyone else does the same for their own land and homes." He marched on, but he could see Gojyo watching intently, listening closely. “Until recently, the landlord would merely take a small portion of one's profits each season and allow the land to be passed down rather than reclaiming it and uprooting families, lives, and businesses.”

“I can already hear the 'but' coming.” Gojyo frowned, motioning to the hill. “What's the deal with her?”

“She was the second wife of the previous landlord.” Hakkai lowered his gaze and voice, turning away as Gojyo continued to squint out at the castle. “The landlord's son and heir was just shy of fourteen when the landlord passed, and Lady Koushu was merely meant to hold the title until he was of age. However, she instead decided to run the land for herself, and she overhauled the previous system.” Hakkai stiffened, looking at his rake again, at the work in front of him, and set himself to slashing through the weeds again. “Lord Maoh would ask a tithe as tribute, ten percent of our seasonal profits. Everyone could afford that, because the less fortunate who had little to give only had to give up a small portion. Koushu declared that insufficient, and that people were lying about their profits to avoid paying, and declared that tributes would be based on the size of the land rather than the actual profitability of those working it from season to season.”

“Oh.” Gojyo frowned, and Hakkai turned again to face him.

“Take, for example, these rice paddies. It's a large stretch of land. However, harvest is twice a year, so the seasons where there are no harvest mean thin times. What do they do when they make no money, but still owe a huge fee in tribute?”

Gojyo made a face, then muttered, "Guess they're screwed."

"If that's how you wish to put it." Hakkai resisted the urge to correct Gojyo's language, but turned to face him. "But she insists. She has no mercy for the unfortunate, no exceptions for farmers who haven't had a harvest. In fact, she raises her rates every season."

"But you said you all already couldn't afford it!"

"And we can't." Hakkai felt his shoulders tighten up, his grip on the rake tighter, as he stared Gojyo dead in the face. "Those who can leave have left town already or abandoned land that has been with their family for generations. Many of us, for whatever reason, can't leave or don't want to leave, but if we want to stay, we must pay her tribute as she demands it."

"Does she know? That people are struggling?" Gojyo waved an accusing finger at the hill, and Hakkai clicked his tongue.

"She knows, of course. It simply doesn't matter to her." He let his gaze dip away from both Gojyo and the hill. "She knows when land is abandoned, because she can reclaim it and find a new owner, though nobody new has moved in here lately. She wants people on her land, of course, since she can't profit off of barren land, but I suppose there are enough of us here to exploit yet." He knit his brow up. "As I said, many of us just don't want to leave. There's something important here for them."

Gojyo had clenched his fists while Hakkai was talking. "That ain't fair. And of course, if they can't pay, she just kicks 'em out?"

"It gets worse." Hakkai stepped closer to Gojyo to be heard over the gentle breeze that passed through the paddies, but only just. "She doesn't merely evict those who can't pay; again, she'd rather there be bodies on the land. She sends enforcers to collect, and if payment can't be made, she'll take ransom. A younger sibling or a small child, a family heirloom. They're locked up as collateral until they can make payment."

Gojyo's eyes went wide. "So she just takes some kid away?"

"Returned upon full payment, of course. Usually worse for the wear." Hakkai smiled wryly. "I suppose I'm fortunate that I have no family and no valuables. However, anyone who fails to make full payment will have it taken out on their flesh." Hakkai tore his gaze from Gojyo, unable to stand that horrified look a second longer, and pivoted back into marching through the paddy, tearing at the weeds a little harder than before.

"Wait, hey!" Gojyo gave chase. "So, everyone's breakin' their backs just to make sure they can pay that bitch and not get punished?"

"We have to. Everyone in this little town is subject to the pinch, and the pain trickles down like blood from a cut." Hakkai ripped a bit more fiercely at the next clump of weeds. "Take again, for example, this rice paddy. The rice farms used to pay its workers more, and in actual coin, but these terraces took years to perfect, so they can't simply uproot. They often only pay in rice from their storerooms now, and not nearly as much per person so they can ship more when the harvest is fresh. I often only bring home enough for a meal or two after a full day's work, but they can't give us more; they have to make their payment."

"It's a goddamn downwards crush!" Gojyo threw his hands up. "Man, that's shit! What the hell does she even need it all for, anyway?!"

"Ha, we've all wondered the same." Hakkai rolled his eyes. "Rice and vegetables cost the same for her as for us, and fish are inexpensive around here. I suppose if she ships meat in, that can become costly, and certainly she must pay the personal guard she keeps to ensure we can't come to her doorstep and demand change. Some say she has a taste for jewelry." He found himself smiling helplessly, bitterly, again, wondering if she'd be the one to buy the pearls he'd found and hoping briefly she would choke on their string. Gojyo, for his part, grimaced.

"Well, that's stupid."

"Oh, there are other rumors. She has a daughter, a girl of fifteen, and she may be trying to raise a dowry to marry her into higher nobility. Then again, it's said she could be trying to raise a dowry for herself for the same ambition, to marry herself into royalty." He paused to pick bits of damp vegetation from his rake, grimacing at it as Gojyo hung at his shoulders, gaping with a mixture of apoplexy and incredulity. "It's all rumor and speculation. She's rarely seen; she only dares venture down to our bucolic little hamlet once a year or so. Nobody knows her."

"Horse shit," Gojyo muttered, and Hakkai gave him a significant look.

"You shouldn't be heard speaking ill of her too loudly. There are rumors that those who do speak up have their rent raised higher." He paused, then added, "Or worse." This stilled Gojyo.

"Hey, can I ask you somethin'?" Gojyo moved close, grabbing Hakkai's arm before he gave him permission to ask. "You, uh, seem to have a pretty big stretch of beach. How do you make money to pay for it?"

Hakkai's face took heat, but he lifted the rake. "I work, like everyone else. And really, if we wish to finish this section of field before sundown, I really should put my back into it." He pulled away from Gojyo, turning and continuing to work in silence. He felt Gojyo watching him for what felt like a long time, then heard Gojyo start to pick and rake at the weeds.

They worked with only the odd word exchanged as the sun rose overhead to blind them, then lowered to paint the ground with dappled, long shadows. Gojyo didn't stop and complain once, though he did pause a few times to pour handfuls of water onto his head, and when someone else came around with water, he drank deep. Hakkai chose not to praise his sudden show of maturity too effusively, but instead waited until they were traveling down to the main barn at the end of the day.

"Thank you for your hard work. I can tell you're unused to it."

"Eh." Gojyo grinned, though his face was still sweaty and flushed. "Don't mention it. You're right that this ain't how I usually make my living, but if I wanna stay, that's how it's gonna have to be, isn't it?"

“I'm afraid so.” Hakkai hid a little smile as he turned back around again. “It's that or sell my body--” Gojyo made a strangled noise that Hakkai ignored, giggling to himself, “But I doubt I'd find any buyers here. I'm afraid everyone knows me too well.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo coughed, then cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

The paymaster at the barn smiled to see Hakkai, and smiled a little less to hand him a small bag of rice with a less-than-enthused, “You more than earned it.” The paymaster eyed Gojyo with even less enthusiasm, warily and suspiciously even, and handed Gojyo an even smaller bag of rice. “You earned it.”

“Thanks a lot!” Gojyo seemed contented with it anyway, swinging the little bag around by its ties and tossing it from hand to hand with ease as they walked. Hakkai decided not to tell him he'd been insulted.

The golden sun cast their shadows long across the dusty road back to Hakkai's home, and though Gojyo dragged his heels, he still seemed contented with his haul. Hakkai, meanwhile, was just tired from the day of work and exhausted by the lack of real results. As they walked, there was a holler behind them, and before Hakkai even had a chance to turn, Goku had caught up with them, looking a little worn out but no worse for the wear. He greeted them with his usual beaming grin, holding a fishnet filled with cabbages. “Heya, Hakkai, I got some cabbage for working today! Pick one, pick one, you should get some too!” He handed the bag off to Hakkai, and Hakkai thanked him quietly and fished through to pick a good-looking head. Goku leaned over to Gojyo. “Did you guys make out okay?”

“Check it out!” Gojyo waved his bag of rice around, tossing and catching it, and Goku snorted.

“First day. Don't worry, you'll get better at it!” Goku waited for Gojyo to toss it again and tried to grab it.

“Oi!” Gojyo caught the bag out of midair away from him. “I earned this, dammit!”

“He did, Goku.” Hakkai smiled straight ahead, knowing he might crack and laugh a little if he turned to look at the two.

“Yeah, yeah.” Goku snorted and threw his hands up. “Nah, he tried, he earned it. Go you!” Goku chuckled, and Gojyo snorted and cocked his head back like a preening bird.

“Yeah, that's right. Worked all day, got my measure--”

Just then, there was a whistle from the side of the road – no, a toot. Hakkai had to suppress a sigh and halted, as Goku and Gojyo did the same, as all three spotted Sen Sou, sitting cross-legged under a tree beside the road in the same filthy robes and rope belt as ever, flute to the hole in his helmet. He blew a few notes, then cleared his throat and intoned, “Gentlemen, I celebrate your labor with a _honkyoku_!” He put the flute back to his face, inhaling deep, but Hakkai grabbed Gojyo's bag of rice from his hand and hurried over to him.

“In return for your playing. I'll make a request.” Hakkai flashed Sen Sou a huge, insincere smile. “Silence.” He dropped the rice, and Sen Sou caught it before it hit the ground. Gojyo had barely realized what was happening until it had passed, and he stomped his foot and waved a fist.

“Hey, why the hell does he just get my rice?!”

Sen Sou assayed the rice, tilting his helmet as if to look too close at it, then scoffed. “It's not as if you have given up much.” He cleared his throat, and lifted the flute to his mouth. “Perhaps another original composition, and your charity will match your indolence!” He blew a nasty, squeaking _FWEEEEET_ , and Hakkai grimaced and covered his ears.

“If you worked, you would earn some too, you know! Nothing in your religion forbids day labor!”

Sen Sou withdrew his flute. “Menial labor is for those who do not believe in the charity of the Buddha.” He moved to begin playing again, but Hakkai cleared his throat.

“I gave you a donation and requested silence.” With that, he returned to Gojyo, explaining in a voice meant only for him, “I mentioned a mendicant.”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I actually had no idea what that word meant. Does it mean 'shitty noise maker?'”

Goku choked back a laugh, but lightly slapped Gojyo's arm. “Don't be a jerk. Sen Sou's a religious devotee! He plays the flute to become closer to the gods, and to help center his mind. He's trying to set a good example for how to reach Enlightenment, so he can't spend all day working 'cause it takes his mind away from the gods.”

Gojyo glanced between Goku and Sen Sou, then smirked. “So he's lazy 'cause of the gods.”

“For someone who mostly just followed Hakkai around and complained about working while he was supposed to be working, you got a mouth.” Goku stuck his tongue out at Gojyo, but Gojyo scoffed.

“I didn't do as good as Hakkai, but I tried, dammit! This guy really just lazes around honking on that stick all day, while we work our asses off and don't even get any money for it!”

“Ha,” Sen Sou growled, sneering at Gojyo, then turned towards Hakkai sharply. “If you need money that bad but still have enough to feed a rude mouth like that, why don't you go digging for more of those pearls?”

Gojyo and Goku both started at this, and Goku tugged Hakkai's sleeve. “Hey, what's that mean?”

Hakkai realized his cheeks were warm, but he swallowed his embarrassment and looked to Goku to explain, “I found a handful of pearls on my beach yesterday morning and was able to sell them.”

“A handful! A few dozen, he means! All of high quality!” Sen Sou was all but shouting, and Hakkai felt his face color as Goku gaped at him. Hakkai could see the flash of Sen Sou's teeth under the basket, a gleam of vehemence in his eyes through the holes. “Don't be so modest, sir.”

Hakkai furrowed his brow. “There is no reason to rub my good fortune in his face--”

“That's so cool, Hakkai!” Goku pumped his fists, then gave Hakkai a playful shove. “You got lucky! You were just saying how you didn't have any money for tribute, you must have it now!”

“I'm quite close, yes,” Hakkai demurred, dusting his arm nervously. Gojyo, meanwhile, stared on curiously.

“What's the big deal about pearls?”

Goku whipped around on the path, kicking up a dust could and gaping at Gojyo. “Seriously?! What sorta rock were you living under?! Pearls are, like, a super prize! Rich people love 'em, so they'll pay a lot of money for 'em!”

Sen Sou scoffed too. “Your ignorance goes beyond stupidity into blindness.”

Gojyo scowled, digging his heels in and slicking his hair back from his face. “Pearls aren't a big deal back home! You people around here, always with the money...”

“Please,” Hakkai interjected, “He comes from distant shores.” Then, he turned to Sen Sou with his habitual smile. “If you reject my humble guest, then surely you reject my generosity, as well.”

Sen Sou narrowed his eyes. “I reject nothing.” He then jerked his glare back towards Gojyo. “I don't know where someone comes from where money would be of no import. Every human needs money for something or other, from the lowest monk to the wicked bitch in the tower. If you're saying you've never needed something of value, you are plainly lying.”

Gojyo's back arched, but before he could launch what Hakkai could already guess would be a barrage of invective, Goku stepped forward. “Sen Sou, that's not nice! You don't know him!” He put his hands on his hips. “I know why you're being so grouchy. When's the last time you ate?” Sen Sou didn't answer, but Hakkai saw his gaze flick up towards him under the basket helmet. Goku shook his head. “Yeah, you're hangry. Come on, I got plenty of cabbage and more rice at home. You like vegetables, doncha?”

Sen Sou grunted, but hurried to his feet. He still shot Hakkai one last snide look. “Be careful who you trust.” Goku led Sen Sou off, and Hakkai could hear him chiding him though not what he was saying, and Hakkai turned back to Gojyo, who stood with his hackles raised and sweat running down his forehead.

“You'll have to forgive Sen Sou, the same as he should forgive you. There's little charity to be had here, but he's dedicated to his ways.” Hakkai shook his head to himself. “He has nothing to bind him here. No home, no land...”

“Yeah, I don't care about him.” Gojyo took hold of his arm. “You said you had almost enough money, but almost isn't enough, and you didn't get any money today.” He looked Hakkai up and down, and Hakkai felt a frisson of tension run through himself at Gojyo's scrutiny. “What'll you do if you can't get enough? What'll happen to you?”

Hakkai very nearly brushed Gojyo off, but something firm made his usually playful eyes too hard, almost unlike himself. Hakkai swallowed his tension, and answered honestly, “I don't know.”

Gojyo's grip tightened. “Would you have to leave town?”

“I'd rather not.” Hakkai had to drop his gaze away, then cast his focus back across the long, dusty road between the rice paddies and his own home. "I'm not sure where I'd go, and there are things here I don't want to leave behind.” He tried to tug his arm loose, and Gojyo's hand went slack and freed him.

“But those enforcers'll mess your life up if you don't pony up.”

“That is the size of it.” Hakkai pivoted towards home. “Perhaps you shouldn't get too close to me. I wouldn't want them to believe I have a new brother or the like.” Hakkai kept walking, finding himself too tense to look at Gojyo right now. He only felt a tiny bit of relief at the sound of Gojyo's swaggering gait following.

The traps were filled with fish and a few shrimp, and if Gojyo had been upset with Hakkai in the first place, his distress died quickly at the taste of the rich broth Hakkai made with them. The noise of contentment, the way his eyes rolled back in his head, Hakkai couldn't help but feel especially pleased with himself. “It's a simple living,” he remarked, mostly to himself, “but we're happy with what we have.”

“Is there somethin' more you want?” Gojyo licked the sauce from his lips, and the way he cocked his eyebrow at Hakkai reminded him of Kanan yet again.

“I haven't had the luxury to think about it.” He took another spoonful. “But I am happy here, you know.”

“Nothing'd make you happier?” Gojyo wasn't quite looking at him, but Hakkai considered it anyway.

“I suppose there are things I would like. Most would.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo scratched the back of his head, then continued to eat.

Hakkai did dare to reach for something he wanted after the meal: the mahjong set in the closet. “Have you heard of mahjong before? Do they play it where you come from?”

“I've heard of it now.” Gojyo grinned lazily, but his eyes sparked with interest in the low light in the room. “It's a game, huh?”

“It is.” Hakkai blew the dust off, turning and showing Gojyo the tiles. “We've enough daylight and there's some oil in the lantern, I'd be happy to teach you.”

Gojyo's eyes glimmered. “With you as my teacher, I'm all too happy to learn.” He scooted over to make room for Hakkai at his space at the table, and Hakkai accepted the obvious invitation to sit beside him.

They spent the last light of the day with Hakkai explaining the way the game was played, how it was scored, and some of the common tile combinations. “Even when we couldn't read,” he told Gojyo, as he laid out the tiles, “we could remember the symbols and count the numbers up. I think this was Grandfather's tricky way of teaching us math, too.”

“Well, damn.” Gojyo clicked his tongue. “You just lost the element of surprise on me.”

“Oh, you'll find I'm full of surprises,” Hakkai chuckled, and Gojyo laughed, lightly elbowing at Hakkai's ribs before leaning over the tiles Hakkai had laid out again.

“I dunno. I'll have to watch you, though, huh?” He winked. “Maybe even see if I can't teach you a thing or two right back. Ain't I learned enough from you already?”

Hakkai realized how close Gojyo was to him, how warm his skin was in the dim light, and despite the bounds of politeness, he didn't pull away, instead leaning over the table alongside him. “I enjoy to teach.”

“If everyone who ever tried to teach me was as good at it as you,” Gojyo quipped back, “I'd be near as smart as you.”

“Is that so?” Hakkai smiled his amusement, unable to help himself. Gojyo's good humor was infectious. “I'll make you prove it.” He ran a finger along one of the rows. “Go on and name all the characters I told you.” Gojyo's face jerked to shock, his hair seeming to stand on end right down to those few unruly tendrils in the front that never quite cooperated with the rest, and Hakkai found himself laughing again, before helping Gojyo to go over them again.

In the end, the light died before they could even begin a game, Gojyo still learning to play and Hakkai happy enough teaching him. They laid out the bedrolls and put the lanterns out, but in the dark, Hakkai found himself watching Gojyo again. He tossed a few times, before rolling towards the wall, his hair spilling across the floor towards Hakkai like a waterfall.

His voice slid through the dark like a hand carding through his hair in the night: “I learned a lot from you today, but there's something I wanna know.” Hakkai waited, holding his breath, as Gojyo seemed to think, choosing his words as if he were picking bones from a fish: “You like it here, right? You wanna stay, right?”

Hakkai blinked a few times, sleep already clouding his mind and eyes a little, but he could still see Gojyo's silhouette against what little light there was. “I'd like to stay. There are things here that make me happy.”

“Mm.” Gojyo didn't say anything else, and Hakkai, tired from the work, the sun, and a happy evening, slid thoughtlessly into sleep.

When dawn came and Hakkai woke to the warmth of the rising sun on his face, it was first to see Gojyo, tucked into his bedroll with his hair somehow damp and straggly over his face. Hakkai reached across the floor to move a few soft strands from his eyes, but he didn't stir, only limply swatting one hand to move some of his hair for himself. It was then that Hakkai spotted the calluses and bruises on his fingers, and knew that Gojyo had built them up the day before, and despite all his griping during the day, he hadn't said a word of the pain that surely accompanied those.

He wished he had the luxury to let Gojyo sleep a little longer.

“It's time to get up.” He smoothed a hand down the back of Gojyo's hair, then gave his back a gentle jostle. Gojyo mumbled incoherently, and Hakkai sat up from his bedroll to begin the morning routine.

Except the moment he turned to the table, the routine warped around an anomaly: gleaming in the sunlight, on the table where just the night before they had spread mahjong tiles, now waited a pile of beautiful, perfect white pearls.


	5. A Fool and His Fortunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai has discovered more pearls, and hardly knows what to do with his new-found fortunes but spend it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and chapter 6 were originally a single chapter, but because that single chapter was enormous, I broke it up for easier digestion. Enjoy!

**5\. A Fool and His Fortunes**

“Hurry, hurry!” Hakkai leaned out the window and splashed his face in the water from the rainbarrel. Gojyo was waking up slowly, rubbing sand from his eyes and blinking blearily between the fish and vegetables sizzling in the pan and Hakkai frantically dressing and combing his sleep-mussed hair into place. He found a comb in Mother's drawer and shoved it into Gojyo's hand. “Comb your hair out, here, you should look presentable!” 

“Presentable? I'm a present everywhere I go.” Gojyo managed a shadow of a charming grin under the veil of weariness, then yawned and began to slowly run the comb through his tangles. Hakkai, meanwhile, tried to divide his attention between tying his sash and stirring the leftover fish in the pot with the rice. Gojyo frowned into the pot as Hakkai scooped the rice mixture to the side of the pot. “What're you doing?”

“Making a breakfast we can take with us; I'd trade my eye teeth for some flour right now, but this will have to do.” Hakkai tore several leaves off of the cabbage he had left and wrapped the rice and fish into little parcels. “We're going to the market this morning, and I'd like to get there early.” 

Gojyo grimaced as he caught a knot. “Why?”

Hakkai pursed his lips, then put his hand next to the pile of pearls. “Someone left me these in the night.” He hardly dared to touch the pearls, as if they might not be real, as if they might vanish like the reflection of the moon on still water if he dared cast a ripple in the illusion. Gojyo crouched down by the table, looking the pearls over.

“Now that is something, huh?” He cocked his head, eyes getting a little wider. “That's a lot, right? That'll sell for a lot of money.”

“There are more than before.” Hakkai tried to count them with a flick of his gaze, but he couldn't count them all up without moving the pile. If he had to hazard a guess, there were fifty. Easily. Maybe more. “I can't believe it... who would... how?”

It all seemed so impossible, yet as Gojyo picked one pearl up and studied it, remarkably unimpressed (perhaps still too drowsy or too ignorant to realize what was in his hand), it was clearly real. Hakkai held his palm out. “I'll put them in a sack and carry them. They're precious; I won't drop a single one.”

Gojyo nodded and set the pearl in Hakkai's palm, and Hakkai accepted it and carefully poured it and all of its brethren into a little drawstring bag. As impossible as it was, he had to do something about it.

“Here, here.” He put one of the cabbage packets into Gojyo's still-open palm. “Eat up! Let's get on the road!”

Gojyo shifted his brow a little, clearly considering it. “Why the rush?”

“Because if that noise-making mendicant comes by and finds out I have these, he's going to insist I share the profits, or blow on that flute until I do.”

Gojyo jumped to his feet, suddenly completely awake. “Hot damn, fuck that, let's roll!” 

“Yes.” Hakkai looked at the bag in his hands, his mind rushing and his heart churning in his breast. “I've hit the first bit of good fortune anyone in this village has seen in ages. I intend to enjoy it.”

It was taking a bit of effort for Hakkai to tamp his excitement down as they walked. He was nearly too nauseous to eat, though Gojyo contently munched his way through his cabbage pocket a step at Hakkai's heels. “You're super lucky,” he said, still sounding oddly detached from the whole concept. “I mean, they just sorta showed up, too. Someone must be looking out for you.”

“Yes, I...” Hakkai swallowed his excitement again. “I must have some sort of guardian spirit, or an admirer leaving me presents. If only I could thank them so profusely as they deserve. I'd owe them such a tremendous debt; I wouldn't know what to do to make it up to them.”

“Heh, yeah.” Gojyo chuckled into his breakfast as he took another bite, still keeping close at Hakkai's heels. “Well, I'm sure they'd be happy to see you happy.”

“I don't know; I can't, can I?” Hakkai felt his jaw and hands tremble. “I wish I did. But I must honor their generosity.” He ran his hand over his pocket where the sack of pearls sat, feeling their weight too keenly. “Nobody in this town has experienced serendipity – not to this degree, certainly, but perhaps at all – in over a decade.” His hand closed around the little bulge. “It will be a jab at the heart of Lady Gyokumen if I share this good fortune with those so bereft thereof, those from whom she has stripped such happiness.” 

Gojyo frowned a little, brow wrought and face stern. “I dunno. I wouldn't spread it around if I were you. Keep it for yourself, y'know?” He finished his breakfast in one final gulp, smearing the rice from his lips. Hakkai shook his head.

“I'll have more money than I know what to do with, more money than anyone at home can imagine. What am I to do, hoard it like a miser? I'd be no better than her.”

“Well, I guess.” Gojyo made a face, tucking his hands into his side pockets, then adjusting his waistband where it rubbed at his hips. Hakkai could catch a glimpse of reddened, irritated skin where the fabric slid out of place. “But what if she hears about someone flaunting his money around? She might try to take more from you, or from everyone else.”

“What more can she take?” Hakkai shook his head. “I imagine if she pushes a step further, there'll be open revolt.” He ran his hand over the pocket of pearls one more time. “This will be my private revolt.”

Gojyo snorted, then slung an arm around Hakkai's shoulder. “I guess you know better'n me. Just, uh. Be careful, okay?” Then, he tapped Hakkai's other hand, where he still held his breakfast. “And eat, why doncha? If you're a one man fuck-that-bitch army, armies don't march on empty stomachs, yeah?”

Hakkai laughed Gojyo's coarse aphorism off, but took a bite of his cabbage pocket. Despite being the same fish and rice he ate every day, it tasted better with a pocket of pearls and Gojyo at his side.

The appraiser gaped at the pearls when Hakkai poured them onto his table. The soft morning light through the shop windows made each one as luminous as the moon, and as the appraiser examined each one, Hakkai felt himself quivering both at their beauty and with anticipation. Gojyo, for his part, was vastly more fascinated by the silk curtains. After reviewing each of the pearls and counting them all, the appraiser shook his head slowly. “They are not all as fine as the first lot. Some are tarnished.” The appraiser set a small handful aside. Hakkai frowned and leaned closer, only to see a grayish tint to a few. 

“I see. I do apologize.” Hakkai felt Gojyo sidle up alongside him, attention apparently piqued, but the appraiser chuckled.

“You cannot control nature, young man; that is merely how they were made. Imperfect, they are still valuable. For the lot of seventy-four perfect and nine imperfect – ah, let's see.” The appraiser brought out seven strings of coins, nicked off a chunk from an eighth, and pushed them all towards Hakkai. “I suggest you not spend it all in one place.”

“Oh, no, I won't.” Hakkai took the coins in a hurry, struggling to find places to put it all; his pockets weren't big enough, and he had to resort to using Gojyo's as well. “I intend to spend it in as many places as possible!”

The appraiser had laughed with mirth. Hakkai only waited for him to return from putting the pearls in his safe to hurry back out into the market, the money still too heavy in his pocket. He took a few coins and handed them to Gojyo. “Would you kindly find a wheelbarrow for rent? We're going to need it.”

Gojyo saluted, winked, and sauntered off with money in hand, and Hakkai turned his eye to the marketplace proper. He was not greedy, or did not think of himself as such, but there were so many things he wanted.

Flour, for one. It had been ages since he'd tasted a flour pancake. The sudden thought of a fresh, warm pancake filled with roasted fish and crisp, verdant, tangy scallions made his mouth water.

His soy sauce bottle had been nearly empty for too long, and he had been skimping on cooking oil for months or even boiling things instead of frying because he hadn't been sure when he'd be able to afford more. He could afford fresh jars of both now. He restocked everything he wanted to keep in his pantry, all the dry goods and spices he could think of, and he still hadn't spent the whole of his first string of coins. As he juggled the dried peppers with the preserved eggs, however, he realized that while he had plenty more money, he hadn't nearly enough hands, and where had Gojyo gotten to?

As it turned out, Gojyo had gotten to the rickshaws, but had obviously been sidetracked by some scintillating conversation with the young lady watching the till. Hakkai felt a flare rise in his chest; he couldn't hear what was being said, but there was a warm sort of glow to Gojyo's face, a wicked gleam in his eyes, a confident ease in his posture, and the girl was clearly taken, drawing herself in to look like she was shying back but clearly following his every gesture, rapt with every stray wink and shift of Gojyo's eyebrow. He was a natural cock-of-the-walk, obviously confident in a way that Hakkai could never match when talking to someone to whom he was attracted.

And yet, despite his jealousy, he couldn't be especially upset. Gojyo likely couldn't help it. Hakkai had gotten an inkling as to what Gojyo wasn't telling him: Gojyo wasn't a lost fisherman. He was a prostitute. Worse, likely a kept boy for some lonesome noblewoman or an eccentric nobleman, and he likely hadn't seen the outside of a boudoir since he was old enough to serve. Gojyo may have tired of a life of use and run away, or was dismissed for offending his mistress, or – and the thought truly made Hakkai shudder – aged out, so to speak, especially if his keeper had a taste for younger men. Gojyo may not have been outside in longer than he remembered, draped in silks rather than hopsack linen, not expected to lift a finger but to lay back and be inviting, his every need met, but never exposed to the sun. No wonder he was so befuddled with the world beyond himself. He was a koi in a tiny pond that had suddenly emptied into a grand ocean. He likely didn't even realize he was flirting with the young lady.

“Gojyo?” Hakkai got an arm free to tap his shoulder, and he pivoted around, already grinning.

“Oh, hey!” He halted, seeing Hakkai's arms overloaded. “Oh, man, let me take some of that! I kept you waiting, huh?”

“Only a bit,” Hakkai demurred as Gojyo began to load his own arms up, clutching Hakkai's burden to his chest as he turned back.

“Here's my friend I mentioned; looks like he got a little carried away already waiting for me to get him a carriage. So, how 'bout that rickshaw, sweetie?” Gojyo winked at her, and the girl giggled again but hurried off. Gojyo then turned right back to Hakkai. “Sorry, sorry; she was nice.”

“Yes, I'm certain.” Hakkai tried to keep his smile crisp, but Gojyo shivered a little.

“Jeez, I'd be in trouble if you didn't like me, huh?” He cocked his eyebrow, making an obvious effort to look roguish and handsome. “I'm lucky, I bet; someone on your bad side might actually freeze to death on that chilly little smile.” He managed to poke Hakkai's cheek around his armful of dried peppers and spice bottles. “How do I get a little warm sunshine on ya, huh?”

Hakkai felt his cheeks heat a little, and pushed Gojyo's hand aside. “Really, don't tease me now; I was merely being impatient.” Gojyo still smirked coyly at him, and he naturally smiled back, feeling better already as he slyly returned a verbal prod: “I'm trying to do you a favor, you know; you should be a little nicer to me.”

“I'll do better.” Gojyo managed an awkward salute around the armful of jars and little sacks, simultaneously dropping Hakkai's dried peppers and sesame seeds. Hakkai tsked him as he picked them up, but Gojyo leaned forward. "Hey, so, what did you mean by 'trying' to do me a favor? I mean, you put a roof over my head and food in my belly, so--"

Before Gojyo could finish or Hakkai could answer, the girl arrived with a rickshaw in tow, and Hakkai began to load it out of Gojyo's arms, arranging everything just-so. Gojyo put down the last jars in his arms, only for Hakkai to swiftly rearrange them, then to turn to him with a placating smile. "I've got more favors to do for you. Kindly tow the rickshaw, and we can get to them."

"Whatever you say." Gojyo mounted the rickshaw's handles on his shoulders, grimacing only a little as its weight settled on him, and followed a few steps behind Hakkai as he led him into the market.

The streets were a little more crowded now, with more vendors walking with trays on their shoulders or pushing carts through the dust and barking their products with the enthusiasm of one announcing for street performers. Hakkai paid no mind to the traveling salesmen with their potions and medicines or fruits from distant lands (though Gojyo twisted around, curious at every one, the poor, naïve man), more interested in the sheets of cotton and linen fluttering in the faint breeze off of the rice paddies. Hakkai stopped near the fabric vendors, quaking a little in his excitement. "It's been ages since I made new clothes."

"Oh yeah?" Gojyo raised an eyebrow, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "What's wrong with what you're wearing? I think you're dressed alright."

"My clothes are fine." Hakkai then tugged Gojyo's sleeve. "Yours aren't. Your skin is clearly irritated."

Gojyo went red across the face, even to his ears. "Uh." He quickly tugged at the hem of his shirt and the waist of his pants. “Well, that's just how your clothes are, right?”

“I think the fabric may be wrong for you; you must have sensitive skin.” Hakkai gestured to the fabric strung on lines. “Go through, touch, see what does feel nice to you. I want to make you something you truly wish to wear.”

Gojyo couldn't keep a bright grin, like that of a child who knows he's being spoiled, off of his face. He began to feel his way through the fabrics, touching and smoothing them over his skin. He glided through the rows like a duck over still water. His smile was different now from the man who'd been flirting so effortlessly just minutes ago, so cocksure, so confident. There was an innocence in it. Hakkai wondered if Gojyo had ever been innocent.

Soon, Gojyo returned with a roll of fabric in hand. “They told me it was imported cotton,” he reported with an air of pride, as if he were feeling as special as the fabric. Hakkai chuckled and touched – it was fine, soft like a feather pillow. 

“You have expensive tastes for one with empty pockets.” He took the roll from Gojyo, as Gojyo flushed and sputtered. “I'd be happy to purchase it for you.”

“Wh-- really?” Gojyo jawed a second longer, then laughed. “Well, I'll make it up to ya somehow. But, uh, why not do something nice for you?”

That surprised Hakkai. “For myself?” He turned his finger to his own chest. “Goodness, I much prefer spoiling you.”

“Yeah, I like that too, but be nice to yourself.” Gojyo crossed his arms, and Hakkai caught him shifting his weight. 

“I will.” Hakkai chuckled and set his shoulders back. “I'll make myself a new jacket, too. Why don't you pick out some dye for yourself?”

“Dye?” Gojyo cocked his head, and Hakkai pointed at the dye swatches on the nearest booth. 

“To color the clothes, of course.”

“Oh, is that how that works?” Gojyo grinned and leaned close to examine the dye options, from the golden of turmeric dye to the crimson of brezel. Hakkai found himself more interested in the sway of his crimson hair, and lost in the memory of that fateful night.

No matter how distant the dream was, Hakkai still recalled so perfectly that glimpse of red hair he'd seen in the water. How strange a coincidence, or perhaps it was just fate. 

Gojyo brought Hakkai a few swatches, knotweed blue, onionskin beige, a black of bark composite, and of course, the crimson. “I like these, but you're sure it's alright? You don't mind?”

“It is, and I don't.” Hakkai took them and turned to purchase the dyes, but paused, not quite able to look at him as he said, “It's strange, but things began to go better for me when you arrived. Perhaps you're a good luck charm.” Gojyo blinked back obvious confusion, and Hakkai smiled to himself, head bowed. “I wish to treat you well.”

Gojyo made an odd face, somewhere between that spoiled-child smile and bewilderment, and shook his head. “Me, good luck, huh? Ain't never heard that before.” He rubbed the back of his head, hair glimmering as it shifted, and Hakkai kept his private smile close to his chest. 

It hadn't been a dream, Hakkai decided. It had been a vision from the gods, a sign that better things were coming. He had thought the blood red of Gojyo's hair, or the red eyes of the face he'd seen in the water, had been a warning or ill omen, but ever since Gojyo had arrived, Hakkai's luck had turned like a weathervane in a tornado. Red was the color of good fortune, wasn't it? If Gojyo was a good luck charm, Hakkai wanted to keep him close and keep him happy. 

Even if he wasn't good luck, Hakkai wanted to keep Gojyo happy. As strange and occasionally exasperating Gojyo could be, his presence was a welcome light in Hakkai's life. The two nights he'd spent with Gojyo felt more full than the weeks, months – being honest with himself, nearly two years that he'd spent alone.

On their way out of the market, Hakkai remembered that he'd told Gojyo he would do something nice for himself. He saw a traveling salesman with a cart full of bamboo paper books, and picked out a random book that he could read to Gojyo, a book of folklore with a lovely illustration on the front. Even if Hakkai knew the stories like he did his own face, he would enjoy telling Gojyo stories he'd never heard before, and even fancied teaching him to read the simple words for himself.

The road home was long, and they had to alternate towing the rickshaw as their shoulders respectively got sore, but as Hakkai told Gojyo about the food he could make for him with the ingredients he'd bought and Gojyo egged him on, begging him to tell him more, their steps were light. When they got close, they were hailed by a familiar voice, as Goku appeared on the path in front of them, pushing a wheelbarrow of carrots. He whistled as he saw Hakkai's rickshaw. “Wow, you've got it good! Is that a chicken?”

“It is, yes. I found another little cache of pearls.” Hakkai's bright mood sparked his generosity: “Come to my home tonight. I'll have plenty to share.” 

Goku gaped, then squealed with glee, bouncing on his heels. “I'll be there! You know it! You're the best!”

“You've been kind to me in my misfortune, I should be kind to you in my good fortune.” Hakkai bowed, and Goku threw his arms around his neck.

“What else are friends for?” He squeezed, and Hakkai tried to shrink back, until Gojyo yanked Goku back by his collar.

“Quit crowding him, brat. Weren't you running somewhere with those weird cucumbers?”

Goku snorted and took a light swing at Gojyo. “Carrots, stupid! And yeah, I guess.” He jumped back behind his barrow, throwing a quick salute. “But I'm gonna run and do it and be back and we can all have dinner together!”

“That sounds wonderful. Be safe on the road!” Hakkai waved Goku off as he bolted down the road again, and turned to Gojyo. “I'm glad you two get on well. We'll have a tiny dinner party.” He got a vague sense of nostalgia for the festivals, the street food, the celebrations with the entire town, and then again for the meals he shared with his family. “The more, the merrier, Grandfather would say.”

“The smart guy, right?” Gojyo chuckled. “Well, he's a good kid, and if it'll make you happy, that'll make me happy.”

Hakkai's heart felt as full and warm as the afternoon sun, swollen in the sky as it sank towards the Western horizon. “I don't know the last time I've been so happy.” That made Gojyo grin a little broader, and Hakkai felt a tiny bit warmer.

Gojyo was fascinated when Hakkai got the hatchet to harvest the chicken, and followed him to the old stump beside the pig paddock. When Mother and Father agreed to sell a pig (usually one with a bad temperament) to the town for a festival, they liked to harvest the meat where the other pigs would see it, as if to show the others, “Mind yourself, or this will be you next.” This time, it was just a matter of not wanting chicken blood in the house. Gojyo crouched down by the stump as Hakkai checked the edge of the old hatchet against a whetstone, as the chicken naively clucked in its wooden cage.

“She's so quiet, like she doesn't know what's about to happen.”

“It doesn't. That's the trouble with innocence.” Hakkai rubbed his thumb against the ax blade. “Or, perhaps it is a relief not to know what is coming.”

Gojyo's eyebrow shifted back and forth on his face, eyebrow wiggling up and down. “And you don't mind doing it?”

“I'm used to it. In fact, I'm used to all of the kitchen tasks. Mother tried to teach Kanan to slaughter a chicken, but she cried when Mother put the hatchet in her hand.” Hakkai opened the cage and seized the chicken by the neck, then pinned it down to the stump under his hand. He didn't flinch as it squawked and screeched, nor did his voice even waver as he readied the hatchet. “I asked to show her, just so she would see it wasn't frightening. It's merely a part of life.” Hakkai brought the hatchet down with one swift, sure blow, and the chicken went silent. Gojyo grimaced as the blood drained down the side of the stump, as Hakkai held the chicken upside down by its feet to let it drain.

“No mercy, huh? Remind me not to be delicious in front of you.” 

“We all do what we must to survive.” Hakkai watched the chicken blood drain into the ground, then, smiling, motioned for Gojyo to follow. “You should learn a bit, too. Come, I'll show you how to feather and butcher the rest.”

Hakkai ended up doing most of the work, but Gojyo did try. He just gave up quickly, especially when Goku arrived with more vegetables (sharing in return for being shared with), and sat back to look through Hakkai's book as he cooked the rice and chicken in his big wok. Goku was illiterate, and Hakkai imagined nobody had ever tried to teach Gojyo to read, but there were plenty of pictures. They 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed over the drawings, and if Goku knew the story, he would tell Gojyo (who didn't recognize a single one, and Hakkai found himself building a significant grudge towards whoever sold Gojyo off at such a young age that he had never heard them), but if neither knew, then Hakkai would lean over the stove and refresh Goku's memory.

“Ah, this one, this one!” Goku laughed as he got to a certain page. Hakkai glanced over the vegetables sizzling in the pan next to the chicken, reeking of ginger and garlic, just to see Gojyo pulling a face.

“What's that?”

“Don't you know? Jeez, everyone knows about these!” Goku rolled his eyes, just as Hakkai cleared his throat. Goku lifted the page up so Hakkai could see the painting – a beautiful woman from the waist up, with a fishtail sprouting beneath her hips. “Everyone's seen a mermaid or knows someone who has!”

“Ah.” Hakkai snorted to himself, then winked at Gojyo. “Yes, if one goes out to sea far enough, you're certain to meet one. That, or become so lonely for women that one imagines them in the water.”

“The elder said he saw one!” Goku put the book down on his leg, pouting. “He said she was beautiful, but she nearly dragged him in and drowned him.” 

“My, my,” Hakkai chided, trying not to smile. “I think you mean, he saw a seal and fell in the water because he thought it was a woman and then nearly drowned trying to get back onto his dinghy.”

“No way!” Goku crossed his arms. “The elder wouldn't lie to me!”

“So, uh.” Gojyo leaned in, twisting to look between the two of them. “Mermaids, you talk about them?” 

Goku clicked his tongue. “I told you, everyone knows! They'll drag you under and eat your soul out through your butt!”

Gojyo choked on his spit, as Hakkai tsked Goku: “Those are kappa.”

Goku held his hands up in a shrug. “They both live in water, right?”

“Yes, but they're different.” Hakkai pushed the rice from the wok into bowls, eyes cast down as he remembered what Father had told him. “Mermaids live at sea, kappa in ponds. Mermaids lure sailors out, kappa wait in ponds for bathers or swimmers.” He looked to Gojyo, balancing the plates between his hands. “The sailors who take long voyages tell different stories of them.”

“Ooh!” Goku wiggled where he sat. “Like, if you catch one and let it go, it'll grant you a wish!”

“Yeah?” A smirk quirked at the corner of Gojyo's mouth. “Best get fishing, might be the only way you get taller.” 

“Shut up!” Goku laughed and punched Gojyo's arm. 

“Ah,” Hakkai recalled something, tapping his lip. “But wasn't there something about making them cry? I imagine a fishhook to the lip would elicit tears from even the strongest spirit.”

“I wouldn't wanna catch one!” Goku scrunched his nose up. “What if they trick ya? The elder said never to trust magic, only trust stuff you understand.”

“Good plan,” Gojyo muttered, then threw another grin at Goku. “So I guess you don't trust much, huh?”

Goku just stuck his tongue out at Gojyo. “I never said I was all that good at listening to the elder, did I? I trust you enough to turn my back on you, and you're still weird!”

“It's all stories, anyway.” Hakkai dripped a bit of sauce onto the vegetables and gave them one last stir, glancing to Gojyo as he shifted where he sat, face taut. “If there were such a thing as magic, I would have seen it before now. It sounds silly, doesn't it?” He forced a little chuckle, hoping to clear Gojyo's face while wondering why he seemed so discomfited at the thought. Perhaps being swept away in the current had given him some perspective on what it would have been like to be fished up. “And really, I doubt there's anyone has seen a mermaid that couldn't have just as easily been a drunken illusion, a figment of the imagination, or a dolphin.”

“Ooh, dolphin.” Goku grinned toothily. “I'd fish one of them up, they're tasty!”

“You think everything's tasty, Goku.” Hakkai laughed again, a little more genuinely, and was relieved to hear Gojyo laughing along.

“They're cute stories, anyway.” Gojyo pushed himself to a stand. “I'm gonna take a piss before we eat.” He trudged out the door, though Hakkai didn't miss the way he dodged his gaze. It made him forget to remind Gojyo to mind his manners, though he was relieved to hear Gojyo at least splashing his hands in the rainbarrel as he put the plates on the low table to serve.

The three of them spent a happy evening together, Goku and Gojyo laughing and talking and roughhousing as easily as brothers, Hakkai cutting the fabric for Gojyo's new clothes. Hakkai had to stop and sigh and scold the pair of them, making Goku yelp and getting a nervous laugh and a lot of excuses out of Gojyo, and yet Hakkai knew it was merely show. He was happy to have them there, as much of an ordeal as they could be. His house felt like home.

Even when Goku left, when it was just him falling asleep a few paces away from Gojyo, Hakkai felt like he was somewhere he belonged. He so dearly wished to stay in this place.


	6. The High Cost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The collectors have come to town, and Hakkai is ready to lay it all on the line. What will his choices really cost him?

**6: The High Cost**

The five days since Gojyo had arrived had been five of the best Hakkai could recall to recent memory. Yes, Gojyo was still a bit exasperating, and he needed too many things explained to him (such as why he wasn't supposed to use the chopsticks to style his hair – _"because I put those in my mouth, Gojyo"_ – or why it was in bad form to request someone else leave a latrine open so he wouldn't have to dig his own – _"must I really explain why nobody will be inclined to leave a latrine open?"_ ), but he was good company. Hakkai enjoyed having him around, enjoyed doing kind things for him that would help convince him to stay, if only a little longer. Gojyo's hesitation to accept Hakkai's kindness, his bashful little grin and nervousness at accepting Hakkai's little tokens of hospitality, those were endearing in their own right, but heart-aching at the same time. He'd been outright uncomfortable when Hakkai had finished his clothes, almost jumping back when Hakkai held them out for him to try on, asking first:

"It's okay for me to have these? You're sure? They'd fit you too, I'm only a little bigger than you."

"I want you to have them," Hakkai had insisted. "I made them for you, after all. Besides, they're more your colors than mine." He held the crimson sash up next to Gojyo's face, matching it against his eyes and hair, and Gojyo hesitantly smiled and stripped the shirt he'd borrowed from Hakkai off.

"A guy could get spoiled, living with you."

Hakkai cupped his mouth to hide a little laugh as Gojyo pulled the new tunic on, patting it to smooth it down his chest. "If I could provide you with such niceties daily, I gladly would."

He'd meant it, too. If his luck held, if he were able to turn his windfall of fortune into good karma or parlay it into a real path forward, he would be happy to give Gojyo new clothes, rich food, and good company all the time, happy to share such things with him daily.

This day, however, was a special day.

The morning was quiet and still, as it had been since the pigs were sold, but Hakkai woke early out of nerves. He'd been counting the days, anticipating the day before the equinox like one anticipates rain from a storm cloud, but now that the day had come, Hakkai felt a strange sense of confident peace upon opening his eyes. The landlady would send her collectors today, and for the first time since paying the tribute had become his responsibility, Hakkai wasn't worried about what was about to pass.

Gojyo was tossing and turning in his bedroll, but Hakkai woke him with a gentle hand. "Time to wake, and no time to eat this morning."

Gojyo groaned and lifted his face. "No? Aw, man, but I'm hungry."

"We need to be somewhere early, I'm afraid."

Gojyo dressed, washed his face in the barrel, and joined Hakkai at the path up to town. "The clothes you made me are real nice, man," he said, dusting a hand over his thigh to draw Hakkai's attention to the black breeches he'd chosen for the day, but Hakkai wasn't in a mood to watch him strut.

"You look nice, yes, they suit you." He finished counting off the coins left on his strings, not looking at Gojyo at all. "You can show off for Goku later. For now, come with me." Almost by instinct, he took Gojyo by the hand and led him up the path.

The market street of the village was unusually crowded for the early dawn hours, with all the landowners and their families lining the main road. Hakkai felt his mouth dry as he joined the lineup. He could admit that was nervous; not for himself, but for the others in front of him. He'd watched this sad display more than thirty times now, and felt the wave of fear that swept down the entire road as Lady Koushu's personal guard appeared at the bottom of the hill. Ten men in black, with leather armor and hard-wood batons and swords strapped at their hips, were led down the road by a handsome man with a sallow scowl. His deep-reddish hair was bound in a simple topknot to keep it from his face, pulling his skin taut and making him look all that much unkinder for it.

"Kougaiji," Hakkai found himself murmuring, and shook his head to himself. Gojyo raised an eyebrow at him. "The son of the former landlord. Stepson to the landlady. The rightful heir to this seat, one which Koushu will not cede. He's become the leader of her personal thug squad."

Kougaiji's expression didn't change as he came to the first landowner, stoic, looking through rather than at the hunchbacked old farmer. "Your tribute, please." He looked to the ledger in his hand, and Hakkai saw him mouth a number. The farmer winced, but dug in his pockets and pulled out a few strings of coins. Kougaiji motioned for someone behind him, a broad-shouldered man with a broadsword strapped to his back, to take the money, and the lone woman in the group, a sad-looking woman in a plain dress with her dark hair bound in braids, counted them off. She nodded to Kougaiji, and Kougaiji bowed at the waist to the farmer, thanking him under his breath, and moved to the next person in the row. Hakkai wondered what that farmer had been forced to scrimp on and sacrifice to make that payment.

Kougaiji did the same down the entire row, refusing to touch the money but speaking to each of the villagers with a stern but exceedingly polite mien. That is, until an older man, grimacing, handed Kougaiji's right-hand man his money, and the woman counted them and shook her head. Kougaiji's jaw twitched, and he turned back to the man. Hakkai was close enough to hear what he said:

“You're short.”

The man hung his head. “I don't have it.”

Kougaiji was silent a moment, then murmured, “You must.”

“I don't!” The old man grabbed at his hair. “My wife was ill, she couldn't work for a month. I haven't been able to afford food or medicine, you can't take the roof from over my head!”

Kougaiji lowered his face, unable to look the man in the eyes. “But you and she are still well enough to work.”

The man was gaping now, and sputtered a weak, “Barely!”

“Then you can make it up next season.” Kougaiji motioned to some of the men behind him. “I'm afraid we must give you a reminder.”

Hakkai saw two of the guards grabbing at their batons and stepping forward, and knew what was coming. Instead, he stepped forward, breaking away from Gojyo, and spoke as loud as he could: “Stop.” 

Kougaiji and his thugs turned towards Hakkai, but Kougaiji muttered an order for them to wait and approached Hakkai. “Hakkai, I have to. Don't make me do this.”

“Nobody is making you do anything, Kougaiji.” Hakkai made certain to speak loud enough for those nearest them to hear. “Nobody is forcing you. In this instance, I'm stopping you. What does that man owe?”

Kougaiji's jaw tightened, as he came up short on words. Then, he ground out, “Three yuan.”

“Three.” Hakkai reached into his pocket, ripped three coins off of the string, and dropped them at Kougaiji's feet. “Ah, I'm sorry.” He imitated a mollifying smile, then motioned to the money on the ground. “That's what you demand of him, isn't it? Spare him.” 

Kougaiji stared hard at Hakkai, then carefully knelt to pick the coins up. There were a few gasps from the townspeople gathered as Kougaiji crouched in front of Hakkai, but he swept back to a stand only to continue to stare hard into Hakkai's face. Then, he turned over his shoulder to the others, the thugs still holding the older man down on his knees in the dusty road. “Release him. His debt is paid.”

The thugs released the man, and he staggered back, gaping at Hakkai now even as Kougaiji turned back towards Hakkai, wearing the same inscrutable, hard expression. Hakkai felt his knees shake, but he also felt Gojyo watching him keenly from behind him. He steeled himself and cleared his throat. “Tell me what I owe you.” 

Kougaiji glanced to his ledger, slowly, as if giving Hakkai a chance to back out of whatever stunt he was pulling, and spoke as if he could not believe someone was offering to pay. “Lady Koushu requests five hundred this season.”

“Take it.” Hakkai withdrew five strings from his pocket and held it out to Kougaiji, not even flinching. “It's there. Count it.” Kougaiji accepted, and Hakkai passed it to him with a smile. “May the good fortune that has allowed me to meet your demands be a sty in your stepmother's eye.”

Kougaiji seemed to ignore Hakkai's barb and nodded, but just as the woman at his aid reached for the strings, he began to run his thumb over the coins for himself. “They're correct. Thank you.” He bowed at the waist. All of Hakkai's drilled-in manners told him to bow back, but he put his heels together and kept his back straight.

“I am not done. I have more.” He kept his smile pinned in place. “And I will stand here and pay for everyone who is lacking. I will not leave this street until everyone else does, as whole as they can be under the crush of this divinely-sanctioned extortion.” Kougaiji grimaced, as Hakkai added, barely bothering to hide his spite under a polite veneer of smiles and mollifying tones: "It's merely a shame that you, who I know to care about these people much more than I, are content to stand back and let this all come to pass, while I, a mere pig farmer, stand in their defense from you." 

This broke through Kougaiji's stoic mask, and he sputtered for a moment before narrowing his eyes to a viperous scowl and growling, “A man without a family has no tongue with which to criticize me.” He walked away before Hakkai could turn their exchange into an argument, back to the point in the line he'd been in. The woman gave Hakkai a sad look, but mouthed thanks and followed Kougaiji. Hakkai stood still, knees shaking just a little, until Gojyo's big hand landed on his shoulder. Like a flash of blue, Hakkai remembered the feeling of a big hand taking hold of his face followed by a mouth breathing air into his, but turned to see Gojyo tugging him back.

“Damn, the balls on you,” he whispered, with an admiring smile. “You just stood down that thug guy like he was nothing.”

“He's no thug.” Hakkai rubbed at the worry wrinkles hewed between his eyebrows, but eased a step back. “Kougaiji was decent, once.” Gojyo furrowed his brow, but stayed quiet at Hakkai's side as the procession went on. True to his word, Hakkai stayed the entire time, staring Kougaiji down with all the boldness he had, and broke coins off of his string every time someone came up short. Kougaiji subtly cringed every time Hakkai dropped another yuan into his palm, and Hakkai felt his anxiety swell and recede like a wave every time he stepped forward, grateful each time he landed back at Gojyo's side again, amidst the murmurs of admiration from neighbors he had known.

It was noontide by the time the collection was done, and despite himself, Hakkai could feel his stomach rumbling for lack of sustenance. However, that gnawing of hunger was beaten back by the anxiety of the morning. Only now was he realizing just the gravity of what he'd done, and the nerves leaked out of him. Still, he knew Gojyo was looking to him with pride, and it gave him the strength to turn and face him with his usual smile. “Thank you for going along with me on this.”

“Hey, don't mention it. Where you go, I go.” He chuckled and closed the distance between him and Hakkai. “I mean, I don't know what's going on, so of course I'm gonna go with you. Why're you thanking me? You're the one swinging big dick down the market street there.”

Hakkai's cheeks flushed, but he laughed it off with a nervous 'Ah-ha-ha' and brushed his hair from his eyes. “I may have done it, but I didn't do it alone. I wonder if I would have felt strong enough to do it without you at my back.” He caught Gojyo's eye, then broke eye contact. “I feel like you're good luck. And... you're a friend. It was difficult confronting an old friend the way I did.”

Gojyo jumped a little at that. “Wait, you're actually friends with that guy?”

“Were. We were friends, once.” Hakkai heaved a little sigh, slumping down and away. Gojyo puzzled over this.

“So, uh, what'd he mean when he said that 'cause you don't have a family, you can't tell him what to do?”

“It was more a matter of, he has a family, so he has troubles I can't understand because my family is gone.” Hakkai bit his lip. “He has a younger half-sister. She's fifteen. I met her when she was young; she was, er, spirited.”

“Is that so?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow. “Not that pretty thing following him around today, was it?”

“Goodness, no; that's the other thing.” Hakkai bit his lip, and lowered his voice. “Yaone... even the men in the collection squad. He's friends with some of them, and Kougaiji cares about them. Deeply. His loyalty is thicker than steel, to those he cares about especially. There's a rumor that he's taken a lover from among his friends, or from one of his family's servants' families, and that Koushu has threatened harm to his lover, his friends, or even to her own daughter to ply him.” He shook his head. “Koushu could afford plenty of others to do his dirty work, but she forces Kougaiji to do it to keep him on a leash. I told you, he's the rightful heir to the land.”

Understanding dawned on Gojyo, light catching in his eyes like fire. “She thinks he might turn around on her if she doesn't control him.”

“She doesn't think. She knows. Everyone does.” Hakkai spoke in a near-whisper, though there was nobody else walking the same path as them. “If she lets loose of his leash, he'll surely turn and bite her for what's she's done to this village.” He found himself hanging his head, very nearly regretting how harshly he'd spoken. “He... he cared about these people. I imagine he still does.” 

“Whatcha mean?” Gojyo hung a little closer to Hakkai, slouching with his hands tucked in his side pockets to match his mouth to the level of Hakkai's ear. Hakkai just sighed.

“We were friends. We grew up side by side.” Hakkai bowed his head, then inhaled and forced himself to walk a little taller. “His father knew my grandfather was a tutor, and my grandfather taught Kougaiji to read, to write, arithmetic, court manners, everything he taught my sister and I.” He bit his lip for a moment. “We were friends, then. He knew everyone's name and was kind and generous, acting the part of the wise young prince to know and understand his people. I admired him.” He could still recall the days when he and Kougaiji and other children near their age would play games in the street together, with Kanan giggling at his side. He remembered when Kougaiji was just the nice kid who lived in the house on the hill and came down to play on sun-streaked afternoons. Now, he only brought sorrow, and clouds hung heavy around his head and weighed his every step.

Gojyo, too, seemed to walk a little heavier now. “You liked him a lot, huh?” 

“Dearly.” He couldn't regret what he'd done, only that he'd driven the wedge between him and his older friend just that much deeper. The rest of the walk home was in silence, Gojyo looking oddly forlorn, Hakkai pensive as the weight of what had passed that day settled on his shoulders.

He still had some money left, but he had no plan for the next season's collection, and he couldn't count on good fortune to keep his pockets full and the earth below his feet. He couldn't know what would lie over the next horizon, and he knew that he'd made a spectacle of himself.

He couldn't regret it, but he had to anticipate now what would come next. Tomorrow was dark yet, like the depths of the ocean; he couldn't yet fathom what might come next.

 

\-----------------------

“... everyone was able to make full payment.” Kougaiji held the ledger out towards the dais where Gyokumen Koushu lounged on a velvet-tufted chaise, the silk of her ornately embroidered qipao smooth against her thighs and her hair combed and coiffed to perfection, held in place with a bejeweled comb and silk scarves. The entire room was similar, hung with shimmering tapestry and decorated with gold and iron. Kougaiji missed the simpler decorations his parents had kept, the heirlooms, the well-made, well-worn things he'd had to dodge. Mother had fallen ill and died when he was small, almost too small to remember, but when Father had married Koushu, she'd gradually begun to cycle out the things that had been in the home for longer than his father had, and Koushu had begun to bring in displays of their wealth. He could understand Koushu's fascination with money, the power behind wealth, but he couldn't understand her need both to hoard it and to flaunt it. Sometimes, he wondered if it was even the money she wanted. Even now, she hummed her disappointment.

“So, nobody arrested? Nobody in need of reminding who they owe? A shame. You boys must have been so bored.” She clicked her tongue with a shameful little sigh, as if it were Kougaiji's fault, as if it were a bad thing at all. Kougaiji glanced back to the door, to the collection party still waiting. Most of them were Koushu's hired thugs, and he was unsure where she was finding them, but they were nobody he knew and most of them had clearly traded their human decency for access to Koushu's purse-strings. The two in his party he knew by name both looked uncomfortable at Koushu's words, Yaone's face tight with sorrow, Dokugakuji grinding his teeth together and clenching his jaw to keep from speaking back. Kougaiji gathered himself.

“I prefer when the collection is easy and smooth. It demoralizes the village to watch their neighbors beaten in the street, or to have their precious possessions taken as collateral. We can't collect from them if they're fleeing in the night.”

“Oh, no, but they've all had such trouble paying, up until this season.” Koushu sat up slowly and extended her hand, manicured fingernails waggling as she beckoned Kougaiji to pass her the ledger. He handed it to her at arm's length, then took two broad steps back, repelled by her perfume and repugnant smirk. She flipped a few pages lazily, humming and shaking her head. “I wonder if their land will be worth more with better owners. And yet, they all found the money somehow.”

Kougaiji's chest wrenched. “Begging your pardon, but many of these people would rather die than give up their land--”

“It is my land, Kougaiji.” Her voice took a sharp edge, but she sheathed her attitude to speak with her usual false sweetness: “They are allowed upon it by my grace alone, and if they can't keep their end of the agreement, then I will take it back from under them.” She dropped the ledger onto the edge of the chaise and stood, smoothing her silk dress down her legs, then crossing her arms. “There was no great harvest this season, and I heard of no windfall. Where did they get the money?” Kougaiji turned his eyes low, and her focus snapped to him. “That was not rhetorical, dear boy. Tell me where they got the money.”

Kougaiji set his shoulders back and grounded his heels. "How am I supposed to know? I'm not with them, watching them. They do what they must, and where they get the money is none of my concern."

"Isn't it?" Koushu descended, each step down the dais sure, her dress sliding on the cold, lacquered-black tiles. Kougiaji stood his ground, but she held his chin and pressed her sharp fingernails into his cheeks. "Where did they get the money?" She pressed in, and he nearly swallowed his tongue, but instead bit it. She tsked him as he remained silent. "Darling boy, I've been your mother since you were hardly at my shoulder. Why can't you talk to me?"

"You are not my mother. You are my sister's mother, and for that I am grateful, but you are not my mother.” He tried to push her off, but she gripped tighter, her gaze piercing. He tried to dig his heels in, wishing he could lift a hand against her without risking the neck of his precious little sister. “I have nothing to tell you!”

“Kougaiji, why are you lying to your mother?” She clucked into his ear, a slow giggle leaking from her like fingernails slowly dragging on the tile. “Mother prefers honest answers, don't you know?” She slid her gaze over to the collection party, and if looks could kill, she'd be stabbing Dokugakuji through the heart. “You don't want me to take your toys away, do you?”

Dokugakuji quivered with silent rage, but Kougaiji knew without saying a word that Dokugakuji wouldn't go after Koushu either, that Kougaiji wouldn't want him to. He grimaced, and muttered, “One of the villagers came into some sort of good fortune. He shared his bounty with everyone who came up short.”

“Good fortune, you say?” Koushu raised a groomed, plucked-thin eyebrow, her exaggerated expression too harsh even juxtaposed against a too-sharp smile. “What sort of good fortune?”

“I didn't ask.”

“You should have.” Now she was looming over him, somehow seeming bigger than her frail-looking frame as she smirked at him. “And I suppose he didn't say.”

“He didn't. Why would he?” Kougaiji bowed his head, scowling at the floor under his feet. “He owes me nothing.”

“Oh, so you know him.” Kougaiji hid a flinch, as Koushu brushed off his dismay and sauntered a few steps back towards her chaise, rubbing her chin. “Alright, which one?”

Kougaiji said nothing. The silence hit the room like some great beast had struck the floor from beneath. Koushu went very still. Her voice thundered the room as if she were shouting, but she didn't even turn to face him: “Kougaiji. Name him.”

Kougaiji grimaced, and shut his eyes as if he could blind himself to what he was about to do. He knew he was about to damn an old friend who he'd been forced to put at arm's length, but he could barely protect those directly in front of him. He had exhausted of trying. “Cho Hakkai, the pig farmer.”

Koushu didn't have to turn for Kougaiji to see the smirk that had crossed her face.

 

\-----------------------

The afternoon had been uncomfortable. The evening had been quiet. Gojyo had been a shadow of his usual charming self, chuckling and smirking in all the right places, but Hakkai could read that something was haunting him. He just couldn't bring himself to ask. He'd resolved to let Gojyo keep his secrets as his own, just as Gojyo seemed to respect him keeping things to himself. 

Even so, Hakkai didn't want whatever shadow this was to overtake the friendship he was forming with Gojyo. 

The night was restless. Hakkai tossed and turned, sleeping only in snatches. He dreamed of the night before he'd found Gojyo, the night he'd tried to drown, and he woke every time that face came in front of his, eyes snapping awake just before he caught a full, clear glimpse. He would lie awake after that, and heard that Gojyo was restless too, twisting and grumbling in his blanket. Half of the times Hakkai woke, Gojyo wasn't in his bedroll at all, and Hakkai could hear faintly hear him pacing. He resisted the urge to sit up, to reveal he was restless too. Let him keep his secrets, Hakkai resolved, but be kind to him in the morning.

Hakkai would give him a generous portion for breakfast, and make sure he got the scallop pieces. Gojyo liked the scallop pieces.

Hakkai woke in the morning much earlier than usual, dawn scantly able to tinge the deep azure sky green with its palette of golds and pinks. He somehow still expected pigs in his yard, but no, the room was silent. He couldn't even hear Gojyo breathing. Hakkai rolled and cleared the grit from his eyes to see Gojyo wasn't in his bedroll. Then, he sat up and found that he wasn't in the kitchen, either. 

There was instead a pile of pearls. Hakkai's heart clawed up into his throat, and he hurried over to them. There were more than ever before, each one a perfect little bead. Hakkai couldn't fathom how much money he would get from this haul, but now more than ever he needed to know where they were coming from.

“Gojyo!” Hakkai hurried outside, looking to and fro, but he couldn't see him in the long grass or on the beach, but Gojyo's big footprints in the sandy dust led to the rainbarrel. Hakkai followed and opened the barrel to wash his face as well, but when he did, all he saw was a flood of red hair floating around, and Gojyo curled up in the bottom.

Hakkai couldn't keep from crying out: “GOJYO!” He thrust his arms in to wrench him up and out – _you drowned yourself, why would you drown yourself, you were happy, I wanted you to be happy!_ – but the moment he got his hands on him, Gojyo shot up to a stand with a huge splash, knocking Hakkai back with a great welt of water. He sputtered his surprise, and Hakkai recovered from the splash just in time to see thin red gashes flaring on his neck.

Gills. Those were gills. Gojyo's skin was mottled like chain armor, blotchy and ridged with scales, and Hakkai gaped as Gojyo seemed to catch his breath and turned around to him.

“I was just washing up! Shit, you surprised –” 

“Gojyo,” Hakkai interrupted, all his compunctions about Gojyo's secrets vanishing in the cold revelation this daylight had brought, “What are you?”


	7. The Secret in the Rainbarrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai has made a surprising discovery, and Gojyo has an explanation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood mention, and some speculation about mermaid life.

**7: The Secret in the Rainbarrel**  
  
It was happening in front of his eyes, the scales on Gojyo's skin shimmering as he quickly clambered out of the barrel, long legs clumsy as Hakkai, fascinated, watched his skin smooth over, watched his hair take a duller shade as it fell, tousled, into his face, watched his gills sink into the flesh of his neck. If Hakkai hadn't seen it happen, he wouldn't have known that the Gojyo standing in front of him had been something entirely different not thirty seconds ago. "Calm down, calm down," he was saying without looking at Hakkai, busily slicking water off of his thighs and showing his teeth in what was a very poor attempt at a smile. "I was just soaking, you surprised me!"  
  
"Gojyo," Hakkai repeated, "What are you?"  
  
Gojyo tried to put on a dumb look. "I dunno what you mean. I'm Gojyo, that's all."  
  
"There are scales all over you." Hakkai pointed vaguely towards him, and Gojyo grabbed at his face. Hakkai smiled with some satisfaction, adding, "Yes, the scales that I can't see now that you are clearly aware you have."  
  
Gojyo stopped, eyes narrowing into a nauseous-looking wince. "Calling my bluff, huh? Cheeky bastard."  
  
"Gojyo, please." Hakkai reached for him, then halted. "Am I allowed to touch you?"  
  
Gojyo's nausea sank for a second into despair that flashed over him like a sudden wave, but he shook it off and gave Hakkai a weary, easy smile. "Of course. I'm the same Gojyo." He shook his head, the wet tangles of his hair swaying in front of his eyes. "Fuck, this is..."  
  
"I'm not angry." Hakkai swallowed and grazed the pads of his fingers over Gojyo's wrists. The skin was as smooth as it ever was, though Hakkai knew he'd seen ridges. "I'm not upset. I just want to know who is living in my home."  
  
Gojyo had stilled when Hakkai had touched him, exhaling when he withdrew. It seemed like a very long span of time before he inhaled, then pivoted from the house towards the water. "C'mon. You might as well see all there is to see."  
  
Gojyo walked straight down to the shoreline, shaking his hands and limbering up like he was about to swim for the horizon, and Hakkai followed. He stopped ten paces back from the shoreline as Gojyo dipped his toes in, and called after him, “Isn't it cold?”  
  
Gojyo tossed his head back and rolled his eyes. “You just caught me in the damn barrel. This water won't be too cold for me 'til things get frosty on land.” He glanced over his shoulder, expression unreadable through the fall of his hair, then turned for the ocean and waded in to his waist. “Come a little closer, why doncha?” Then, he dove in past the dock and into the depths.  
  
Hakkai ran to the end of the dock to see Gojyo swimming through the clear sea water, twisting to catch the light on his form as fine scales manifested across his skin, shimmering against the natural tan of his flesh like gold dust in the water. He turned upright in his serpentine glide, hip just cresting through the wake, and he pressed his legs and feet together as he twisted through the water. The scales on his legs and up past the apex of his hips and sex interlocked like chain mail armor. Even thicker scales erupted down below his waist, darker now, deep crimson like his hair with swirls of black and gold down his thighs like the markings on a prize koi. He fanned his feet out as the dark scales became visible on them and fused there, toes spreading, and an elegant fin fanned out from his feet, a translucent carmine, as fine as gossamer. His hair flowed free in the water, looking ever brighter by the moment, and just like Hakkai was certain he'd seen, gills flared on his neck again. He swam a slow circle under the dock, twisting and turning so Hakkai could see his form in full, the shimmering scales that coated his torso, the thin ridge of black and red fin down his spine, his serene expression as he moved through the water as naturally as a serpent through grass. Hakkai's heart raced at the sight of him, chest too tight, gut churning, because Gojyo, warm, handsome, naïve Gojyo was not at all what he'd seemed at first.  
  
Gojyo launched himself out of the water and splayed himself on the dock, balancing on his hands and hip with his tail flapping in the water, and he smiled uneasily at Hakkai. “So. Uh.” He idly splashed his tail fin in the water, dodging Hakkai's gaze, but Hakkai was affixed to his face as it gleamed in the sunlight, all but glowing gold. His eyes were truly red now, blood red, and his teeth looked a little sharper in his jaw. “I guess this's what you thought you saw, huh?” He idly turned his hands over, looking at his palms, the puddle of water gathering on the dock beneath him, everywhere but Hakkai's face. “So, uh, yeah. That, uh, that storybook you had? Some of those stories might be a little more true than others.”   
  
“I can see that.” Hakkai's legs refused to move for a moment, but he made himself take the next step closer, then the next and the next until he could crouch down within arm's reach of Gojyo. Gojyo was watching him now, wary, tensed like an animal who'd caught ear of a hunter, but Hakkai extended a hand. “May I see your hand?”  
  
Gojyo turned to look at his own hand a moment, then put it into Hakkai's. Hakkai gently ran his thumb over the thin skin of Gojyo's wrist, feeling the scales. Then, he lifted Gojyo's palm and touched it to his cheek, and deja vu crashed into him. “Ah.” He pressed his cheek into Gojyo's hand, recalling this sensation as clearly as a dream he'd only just woken from. The skin of his palm was smooth and slick like satin, but the back of his hand was faintly ridged with scales, and it was the same weight, the same size as the one that had taken hold of him and pulled him from the edge. “The day I found you in the net wasn't the first day we met, is it? You're the one who saved me from drowning.”  
  
Gojyo's face split into a huge grin, expression clearing all at once, those words a zephyr to clear a storm away. “You do remember me, huh? Here I was pretty damn convinced you forgot.”  
  
“I almost had. I was in no state to remember that night.” He closed his hand around Gojyo's, satisfied that Gojyo was meeting his gaze albeit keenly aware that Gojyo was watching him as if Hakkai were the one who might not be real. “You saw me?”  
  
“I saw you get in the raft and go out.” Gojyo nodded a few times. “I thought it was weird for you to be going fishing in the middle of the night, so I kinda watched you. I saw you fall in, and, well, I'm not just gonna let someone drown, right?” He shrugged, dodging Hakkai's gaze again, as Hakkai licked a little salt off of his upper lip.  
  
So, Gojyo had been the one to thwart him. He couldn't bring himself to be angry about it, either.  
  
“I didn't forget, to be honest. I thought I saw you in the water, but I didn't believe my eyes. I thought I'd been dreaming.”   
  
“Nah, I get it.” Gojyo grinned, and Hakkai could see for certain his teeth were a little sharper now, canines elongated, molars smooth but the front teeth jagged. “It seems like the kind of thing that someone might kinda brush off, 'I was dying, I must'a been seeing things.' Nah, that was me.”   
  
“I'm sure of it now.” Hakkai took Gojyo's face in, committing it to memory in the same instance as he aligned it with the memories he had. The way Gojyo's hair moved in the water, the ease with which his body slid through the current, the golden sheen of his skin in the light. He was surely a sight under the moon. “And then the net?”  
  
“Came back to check on you.” Gojyo grinned sheepishly. “I was worried, so I had to come and check on you.”   
  
“You worried about me.” Hakkai's legs gave out on him, and he let himself collapse to a sit at Gojyo's side. His hand brushed over the skin of Gojyo's hip, and he found the scales there remarkably sharper, stiffer. “Ah, those--”  
  
“Careful; the scales, they're, uh, thicker there. Sharper. For protection.” Gojyo indicated his legs. “More meat, plus the good bits, y'know?”  
  
“Ah, yes. Only the most important parts.” Hakkai brushed his hair back. “I suppose I'd rather have my thicker armor around my brain, but then again...”  
  
“Hey, I'm spilling my guts and you're teasing me!” Gojyo sent a spray of water towards Hakkai with a flip of his tail, and Hakkai gave him a little shove. Gojyo scoffed and dove into the water, then swam a circle around the dock again, before popping up and spitting water at Hakkai.  
  
“Gojyo!” Hakkai couldn't help a laugh, and he leaned over as Gojyo swam again. He popped up after a minute, shaking his hair out.  
  
“I'm kiddin' with ya.” He grinned, still idly splashing around. “So, you believe I'm real now? The water on ya is pretty wet, ain't it?”  
  
“It is, yes.” Hakkai chuckled, cupping a hand over his mouth as Gojyo bobbed in the wake. On land, his long, long legs were just a little clumsy and loping, but now he moved so naturally, and every move he made caught the eye. “But you can understand why I may not have believed at first.”  
  
“Truth be told, us merfolk usually keep it that way.” Gojyo shrugged, then lolled his way up onto the dock again, chest against the wood and halfway onto the planks. “We know enough about humans, y'know? Whenever you hear about a pod coming across humans, or even about just one of us coming into contact, it usually ends badly.”  
  
Something about that caught Hakkai's attention. “Ah, do you have a pod? Is that what you call your family? Are there others nearby?”  
  
Gojyo shook his head. “I kinda got broken off from my pod when I was younger. I've mostly hung around this stretch of the shoreline since.” He spread his arm out, gesturing to the coast for as far as the eye could see. “Hunting's good if I avoid the fishing boats, since they're the only thing that can really hurt me this close to shore. I mean, if I go out too far, dolphins might be an issue – they're assholes, y'know? – but I only really go out past the drop-off when it gets cold.”   
  
“I see.” Hakkai furrowed his brow. “You mentioned that the cold is a problem, but only in extremes – is heat trouble for you?”  
  
“Only if I get too dry. Dry's a lot worse than hot.” Gojyo scrunched his nose.  
  
“That explains why I keep finding you damp.” Hakkai found himself smiling fondly at the memories of Gojyo's odd behavior, preferring water dumped down his head and back rather than his throat, finding him with water dripping from his hair at the table in the mornings. “You need to stay wet, then. Have you come up on land in the past?”  
  
“Not much.” Gojyo pulled himself up again. “Being able to split my fin and get legs is kind of important for crossing low tide or dried straits along old hunting paths during migration, if I migrated, or if we get caught by humans in the water and need to pretend we're not merfolk, but I've never really heard about others goin' up and living there.”  
  
“I see. You can't quite make it overnight without keeping yourself damp, then.”  
  
This earned Hakkai another sheepish grin. “Well, uh, I don't need to sleep as much as you do anyway. I like the bedroll a lot, but I usually sleep in the barrel so I can stay damp.” Gojyo splashed the water beside himself. “I'll come down to the water here sometimes too. Saltwater's best, see, if I'm dried out even a little can perk me right up, but the fresh water in the barrel keeps me going.”  
  
For a moment, Hakkai was about to protest that he drinks that water, then decided it would be against his better judgment to be anything other than supportive in the moment. “You are, of course, welcome to my barrel, but I'll ask kindly that you rinse off before you get in next time.”  
  
Gojyo blinked a few times as if a bright light had flashed in his eyes, and he cocked his head. “There's gonna be a next time?”  
  
“Were you planning to come back?” Hakkai motioned back to the shore. “You seem to be enjoying yourself here, and to be honest, I've been glad of your company. If you wish to visit or even to stay as you have been, I welcome you.”  
  
Gojyo's face pinked, all the way to his ears, and Hakkai smiled with amusement – with Gojyo's sensitive skin, it was too obvious when he was embarrassed. “I, uh, I wanna stay. Or at least visit, y'know?”  
  
“I do.” Hakkai hesitated, then leaned over the dock. “May I ask you something?”  
  
“Hey, you tell me plenty of stuff I don't know.” Gojyo flapped his tail, grinning. “Ask away.”  
  
“The pearls, the pearls I keep finding.” Gojyo's grin tightened for a second, and Hakkai hardly had to ask, but he still did: “It's you, isn't it?”   
  
Gojyo stared through Hakkai for a second. “Well.” He nodded. “Yeah. I left 'em with you the first time so you'd know I'd been there, y'know, that I was looking out for you.” He hesitated, dodging Hakkai's gaze and looking down into the water. “And then that annoying guy said they were valuable and you could get money from 'em, and you needed money. So I got more.”  
  
Hakkai felt himself dizzy a little. “You simply... got more?”  
  
“Oh, for sure.” Gojyo showed off his sharpened teeth again, flipping his hair from his face. “I love oysters, y'know? They're chewy and tender and they taste like a cold current. I find 'em pretty easy.” He rolled his eyes as if it were nothing. “I eat 'em up raw and spit the hard bits out, but since you want 'em, I can give 'em to you.”  
  
“I do appreciate you sharing the fruits of your midnight snacks with me.” Hakkai smiled demurely into his palm. “I'll be tremendously grateful, and besides, you'll be earning your keep.”  
  
“Ah.” Gojyo actually looked a little confused, cocking his head, then bowed a little, chin dropping. “It's not like I wasn't gonna do it anyway. Whatever you want.” Then, he dove down under the dock and emerged near the shore, waving to Hakkai as he did. “I've showed off enough for now, hey? Why don't we get breakfast?”  
  
“Ah.” Hakkai suddenly felt his own empty stomach when reminded, and smiled to himself. “In the excitement, I forgot I was hungry.”  
  
Gojyo chuckled, and crawled up onto the sand, tail turgid under him until something seemed to bend and let him separate the fin into legs again, then pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled a little, then caught his balance with his hands out at his sides. “It's been an exciting morning, yeah? But today's another day, right? I found more pearls for ya last night, so you probably wanna sell 'em...”  
  
“Ah, no.” Hakkai rose and crossed the dock to join Gojyo, standing close in case he lost his balance again. “We'll have to talk about that. I can't take advantage of your kindness forever.”  
  
“You ain't taking advantage.” Gojyo rolled his eyes again, then started towards the house. Hakkai noticed him walking unevenly and cringing, just the way he did the first night Hakkai had found him. Hakkai suddenly forgot what he had been saying.  
  
“Gojyo, are you alright?”  
  
“Huh?” Gojyo stopped and swung around, eyes wide, and Hakkai pointed down.  
  
“You seem unsteady on your feet. Is it because of the transformation?”  
  
Gojyo pulled another face, then smiled uneasily. “Uh, yeah. Walking is hard, 'cause I'm not so used to it, and dipping in the ocean kinda kills any hard bits I've built up, so going from the blue to the sand sucks a little.”  
  
“I'm sorry, deeply.” Guilt twanged Hakkai's heartstrings at his earlier notion that Gojyo had been inebriated. “Is there anything I can do to make it easier?”  
  
Gojyo chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, I don't mind, I'm good. It's my choice to be up here, right? C'mon, I'm starvin' on my feet.” He turned back around, and Hakkai winced as he trundled on.  
  
The footsteps Gojyo left on the gravel were bloody. Hakkai added this to the list of things he would have to resolve. He'd fallen asleep next to a friend and woke next to a mermaid, and his life was changing dangerously quickly. He needed to start directing himself instead of being tossed and turned by fortune, fate and improbability whose fickleness was only matched by the tide, or he would be swept away, and Gojyo, even as the miracle that he was, might not be able to save him this time.


	8. The Assayer's Fallacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai considers the value of what he has in front of him, but he may be missing a few rather important details...

**8: The Assayer's Fallacy**

Hakkai examined the pearls as Gojyo languidly finished his breakfast. Hakkai had given him a generous portion, certain the morning swim had exhausted his limbs and roused his appetite, but he was moving slowly through his portion, making evident that the former was the more driving force. Hakkai patted his shoulder as he passed behind him. “You got a lot last night. Consider me thoroughly impressed.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure. Happy to.” Gojyo yawned a little, slouching. “Were you saying you weren't gonna sell 'em?”

“Not all of them at once.” Hakkai poured the pearls into an empty jug and hid it behind some of Mother's old dresses, then sat across from Gojyo. It was strange to see him sitting there, compared to the strange beast that had swam graceful circles under Hakkai's feet and dock not half an hour earlier. Gojyo cocked his head.

“But it's a long-ass walk to the market. Why would you make more trips on purpose?”

“If walking to the market is troublesome for you, I won't make you do it.” Gojyo sealed his lips, and Hakkai wondered if his attempt at kindness was taken as a rebuke. “I can imagine the long walk is difficult, but it's not one I mind in the slightest. No, there are several reasons I'd prefer to sell them over a few weeks.” Gojyo set his spoon down, frowning but clearly waiting for Hakkai to give a reason. “For one, I don't want you to exhaust yourself digging for pearls for my sake.”

“Hey, I told you I don't mind it.” Gojyo scowled again, and Hakkai held a hand up.

“You did say that, yes.” Hakkai folded his hands, squeezing his palms together a little. “But as much as I appreciate it, I can't ask it of you. There is also the matter that I don't want to draw more attention to myself. If I am seen constantly spending money, I'll make myself a target for thieves and the like.”

“If you're trying to avoid attention,” Gojyo muttered towards the table, “you might be a little late on that. I mean, you were really front and center yesterday.”

“I did it out of necessity.” Hakkai squeezed a little tighter, then tried to flatten his hands out. “And I didn't know how vulnerable you would be.”

Gojyo's face took a mulish mien. “What gives you that idea?”

“You were the one who said that your people generally avoided humans. That it ended badly. I don't want to draw attention to you, either.”

Gojyo hunched in a little more. “Aw, I'm fine. I fit in super-naturally.”

“Supernatural is right, Gojyo.” Hakkai managed a wry smile, which only makes Gojyo slouch and sulk a little more. “After all, I could see there was something not entirely correct about you. You are, shall we say, a bit ignorant of some aspects of life on dry land.”

“Hey, I--”

“You stuck your full hand in a pot of boiling porridge. Avoiding this is common sense to anyone who has ever seen water boil before.” Hakkai did his best not to sound disappointed, but now Gojyo was avoiding eye contact entirely. At least he was smirking a little behind his hair.

“Well. Uh. Learned that lesson. I should'a remembered, I saw water do that near this weird mountain once, but I just got told not to touch it.” He shrugged his shoulders and tossed his hair back. “Well, you got any better reasons?”

“I do.” Hakkai shifted in his seat. “The real trouble is the value.” He laced his fingers flat on the table and held Gojyo's gaze. “Pearls are valuable because they're rare. If I bring them in large numbers, then the value will go down, and they'll sell for less.”

Gojyo jerked back from the table. “What? But I thought rich people liked them.”

“Because nobody else could have them, because they're rare and hard to find. If there are lots of them, then they will want them less.”

Gojyo cocked his head, leaning over the table, utterly dumbfounded. He sputtered a second, then blurted, “That's some bullshit! If stuff is nice, it's because it's nice!”

“I can see your point, I do.” Hakkai tried to stay him, lifting a hand and motioning for him to ease back. “But rarity drives up the value of such items. Pearls are a luxury, and serve little practical purpose. They're jewelry, or adornments for dresses. Their actual value is assigned based on who actually wants them. After all, as lovely as they are, they hold no intricate value to me.” 

Gojyo's mouth twisted back, somewhere between disappointed and angry. “That's dumb. Man, I wish I'd told you I was merfolk sooner so I could say it, but damn, humans can be dumb.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Hakkai cracked a little smile. “You don't seem to have a concept of money.”

“Nah, we don't have coins we throw around like that.” Gojyo's nostrils flared, and he shoved his mostly empty bowl towards Hakkai. “Stuff is worth what we think it's worth. I mean, I guess the whole stuff-that's-harder-to-find makes sense. If someone's got sea grapes, and all I got is seaweed, if I want their sea grapes, I gotta give up a lot of seaweed, or convince 'em to share.” He slid his hand back into his hair, smirking again. “But usually we do that other ways.”

Hakkai snorted discreetly, rubbing at his nose to try and guise it. “I imagine you were successful at acquiring sea grapes at your whim.”

Gojyo shrugged, gaze on the table. “When there were others around. The fishin' around here spooks most pods off.” He thumbed over his shoulder at the nets. “Too many of those.”

“Ah, that does make sense.” Hakkai chuckled into his hand again. “I did see you were offended at my traps.” This made Hakkai pause, as he was reminded: “Those are alright, though, correct? You don't mind me trapping?”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow. “Nah, it's probably the easiest way for you to get fish out of the ocean and into your mouth. I won't even mind the net, so long as you bring it in at night and tell me if you're putting it out. You, uh--”

“Is there anything else I should do? Can do?” Hakkai leaned over the table again, the thought like a cold stone in his throat. “I want you to be comfortable here.”

“Hey, hey, I'm fine.” Gojyo waved a hand and shook his head, chuckling dismissively. “You gave me soft clothes that doesn't rub my scales and you tell me the stuff I need to know. I'm happy, alright? I think I owe you more now than you ever might'a owed me for pulling you out of the water.” He smiled easily, but somehow, that set the cold spot in Hakkai's gut firm. 

He didn't tell Gojyo one of his reasons for selling the pearls slowly: the simple fact that Gojyo couldn't stay forever. Hakkai couldn't make him, wouldn't force him to stay, and if he chose to leave before Hakkai could find his own path, he needed to stretch what lifeline he had for as long as possible.

“If you're certain,” was what he did say, “but if there is ever anything you need of me, you need only ask, alright?” He stood, clapping his palms together. “We could use some fresh vegetables today. Why don't we go to the market for a short stretch?”

Gojyo shrugged again, but pushed himself to a slow stand. He still grimaced when he landed on his feet, and Hakkai made a mental note – purchase some good reeds. His father's shoes could still be mended.

\--------------------------------

The walk to the market was pleasant, colored by mild conversation, and the sound and rhythm of the market was soothing, relaxing. The excitement of the first two times selling the pearls had faded, and Hakkai was calm as he poured the few pearls he'd found out onto the buyer's counter.

“I've got a pearl diving partner now,” he explained with a confident, secretive smile, and the trader laughed merrily.

“It seems that you've made a good business investment! I do hope you're able to keep finding these treasures.”

“As do I, for as long as they should last.” Hakkai watched as the trader scooped up the pearls and passed him a string of coins. He was already doing the math in his head; how many strings he would need to pay the next season's tribute, how many coins he needed a week to live comfortably, how much he could spend to help put this money back into the community without just giving it away. He still couldn't fathom what he could do to maintain it without Gojyo's generosity, but at least he had some time to consider all of his options with this money as buffer.

When Hakkai emerged, he found Gojyo waiting where he'd left him, propped against the outside wall looking out into the market. Hakkai was about to prompt him to move along, but Gojyo motioned for Hakkai to come close, just to mutter under his breath: “Look over there, near that lady selling shell necklaces and those funny white lumpy things. See that weird tent?”

Hakkai was about to explain the concept of wax candles to Gojyo, when he saw the strange blue tent propped up in the market street and the person out in front of it. The robes and pants were different, plain but still threadbare and a bit ragged, but Hakkai would know that blond hair and serious, pinched face anywhere. Sen Sou was knelt over a scroll of bamboo paper with an inkwell, with an old woman squinting at him. Gojyo nodded.

“That's that noise-making asshole, ain't it? I recognized his voice. I thought he didn't work.”

“Yes, I know his face well. He's...” Hakkai frowned, rubbing his forehead. “He doesn't, or he says he doesn't.” Sen Sou had objected to the notion every time, and yet there he sat, scribing something with a steady hand. Even so, he wasn't supposed to know Sen Sou's face under the helmet, and a man's business was his own to keep. "Let's leave him be. Move quickly past, and don't make eye contact."

"Right. Like we're avoiding dolphins." Gojyo nodded gravely, and they walked on though Hakkai raised an eyebrow at Gojyo.

"You seem to have something against dolphins. May I ask--"

"You don't wanna know, trust me." The two of them kept their heads low and their eyes on each other as they bypassed Sen Sou's tattered little tent, even as he sighed and set his pen down.

"Alright, we're done. You can take it to the couriers or whoever's going to carry it to your daughter. My fee is--"

"Ooh, I don't believe you!" The old woman made a nose like a whistling teapot, there was a crackle of tearing paper, and Hakkai realized he'd stopped moving. "You Westerners, how can I trust a word you say?!"

"Madam," Sen Sou said, barely keeping irritation at the edges of his tones, "You yourself said my work came highly recommended. I wrote precisely what you asked."

"I don't believe it! You probably just scribbled a bunch of nonsense!" The wrinkled old biddy stomped her foot a few times, and Hakkai grimaced. "I won't pay for it unless I know it's what I want!"

"Hakkai?" Gojyo hooked his sash in his thumb. "Should we, uh--"

"Good sirs and madams!" Hakkai felt a chill run through him, as Sen Sou's voice rang down the street in that booming baritone he always used when he was about to begin his routine, and Hakkai knew to turn and face him. Sen Sou was holding the scroll up and looking into the crowd, right through him. "Is there any fine person amongst you who might be able to read?"

Hakkai swallowed his hesitation and returned to the tent, Gojyo at his heels. "I'm literate, sir." Hakkai looked him dead in the eyes, and Sen Sou discreetly nodded. Hakkai looked to the scowling woman with her froglike face and put on a pleasant smile. "Did you want me to read your message to ensure the calligrapher transcribed it correctly?"

"Hmph, a fine country boy. Yes, if you would." She folded her arms and turned her nose up at Sen Sou, and Hakkai took the scroll from Sen Sou and unrolled it.

"To my dear An, I write to tell you of the goings-on here at home..." He paused reading to look to Sen Sou. "Your handwriting is impeccable."

"Read on," Sen Sou muttered, glowering at something to his left or perhaps just avoiding Hakkai's gaze. "The longer I spend on this, the less I can write."

"Ah, so it goes." Hakkai smiled, then turned his attention back to the scroll, reading, "The seasonal tributes were collected last week..."

Hakkai read the entire letter off, then handed the paper back to Sen Sou and faced the woman. "Was that your message, madam?"

"It was." She hadn't unfolded her arms, but now her nose was turned up at Hakkai, too. She thrust a hand out towards Sen Sou and the letter. "Give it to me."

"You should pay the calligrapher first." Hakkai blocked her grabbing hand with his body. "His work is fine, and I'm certain your daughter will find your words easy and pleasant to read."

She harrumphed again but threw three coins at Sen Sou's feet. "I hope you choke on the rice you buy with it!" Hakkai saw Sen Sou's lungs inflate with insult, but he stuffed it down and scooped the coins up.

"If you would like something further written, your business will surely be welcome with another scribe." He put on a wry smirk to himself as she stormed off, still refusing to lift his head or look at Hakkai for even a moment. Hakkai considered the tension, then bowed fully at the waist.

"I'm grateful I could be of some use to you." He started to pivot away, but Sen Sou boomed:

"Good sir!" That same obnoxious tone. Hakkai was already waiting for the flute to come out as he twisted back around, but Sen Sou was looking at him now, something like pain in the twist of his mouth, but he spoke in the sedate, languid manner with which he had addressed his customer. "My hand is sore from writing, and surely your throat is parched from reading. Come into my tent. I'll make you and your... companion tea."

Hakkai glanced to Gojyo, who shrugged and motioned, and Sen Sou crawled into his tent flap, making space for Hakkai and Gojyo to follow.

The tent smelled heavily of ink and incense, though the smell of incense seemed to come from the pot on the fire in the center of the tiny space. There was enough room for all three of them to sit as Sen Sou found a few mismatched cups and poured from the pot. "Oolong, with cinnamon bark." He passed a cup to Hakkai first, then Gojyo, who sniffed it and grimaced.

"That'll bite your nose off."

"If you don't want it, give it to me, I don't have enough to waste."

"Shut up, I'll drink it." Gojyo rolled his eyes and lifted the cup to his lips, but Hakkai wasn't interested in the tea.

"Sen So--"

"No." Sen Sou clapped a hand shut to imitate Hakkai shutting his mouth. "When I'm here, like this? I'm Genjo." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm a calligrapher and scribe. And nothing else."

"Genjo, then." Hakkai rolled the name in his mouth. "Then I must ask, Genjo, whatever are you doing nothing else for when you are so very talented as a calligrapher?"

'Genjo' scoffed. "It's not as if I make a lot of money this way. Not a lot of people need letters written, and paper and ink are expensive."

"Your handwriting, your script, your lettering, it's beautiful." Hakkai gripped his cup tight, as 'Genjo' dodged his gaze again. "You could work for a nobleman. Why are you still begging and scraping?"

"I have reasons. I wouldn't be able to get out if I gave myself over to some court snob." He sneered, holding his chin impossibly high for someone clearly as low as he was. "It's not like this is what I want to do with my life."

Hakkai tried not to gawk in disbelief. "But begging is?"

"Yeah," Gojyo cut in, "what happened to all that 'charity of the Buddha' crap?"

"Hmph." 'Genjo's' nostrils flared. "Sen Sou is the mendicant who believes in the charity of the Buddha. Genjo is a hungry man who believes that Buddha is dead and people are assholes, so we do what we have to."

Those words were a weight on Hakkai's chest, and he found himself looking down. “I suppose I can relate.”

“Can't we all.” 'Genjo' glared down into his teacup. Just before the silence could become oppressive, the tent flap swung open, and another familiar voice rang through:

"I didn't know you were setting up here today! Didja need anyth--" Goku tumbled in, but started, first surprised, then pleased. "Hakkai! Gojyo! Hey, Genjo, good on ya for letting Hakkai in on your little secret business!"

'Genjo' scoffed. "He caught me."

"Well, it's still nice for you to share the truth with 'em!" Goku grinned at Hakkai. "See, he says he wants to build a home, too, even though I told him he could come an' live with me--"

"Don't tell them that, it's none of their business what I do with the money I make." 'Genjo' waved a hand, flustered and flushing already. 

Hakkai, however, too keenly felt his sympathy to let that sit. "I could share some of my current profits with you, if you'd like. After all, every monk has a temple."

"I don't," 'Genjo' growled, hackles raising, "and have not, and if I never do, so be it." He got up abruptly. "I'm going to smoke."

This caught Gojyo's attention, and he motioned to the fire. "Wait, isn't this already smoke?"

'Genjo' raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you've never seen a pipe before." Gojyo shook his head, eyes wide, and Hakkai stifled a tiny laugh. 'Genjo' clicked his tongue. "You know what? I'll show you. Follow me." He pushed out through the back of the tent, and Gojyo crawled after him, leaving his half-empty teacup behind. Hakkai glanced quizzically to Goku, who shook his head.

“He hates it, y'know? He pretends it's okay, but he hates taking charity and depending on others.” Goku bit his lip, chin sinking. “He can't depend on anyone, he says.” Hakkai recalled the resigned mien in 'Genjo's' expression and tone when the woman had begun to shout at him, the barely-disguised anger. 

“He must have been disappointed many times.” In the same breath, though, he thought of the times he'd insulted or blown Sen Sou off because he often lacked enough to support himself. “But then, I can understand. I admit to preferring independence, or self-dependence, myself.”

“Yeah, no, I'm there with ya.” Goku rubbed the back of his neck. “But it's his religious order, y'know? Back when I was a kid, when we were both younger, he meant it. It's been...” Goku paused, swallowing, then sighed. “It's been hard to watch him lose hope. I feel like something happened, more than just things getting harder, and I don't know what it is, but it messed him up. He wasn't always this angry, y'know?”

“Mm.” Hakkai hummed agreement, watching the little teapot as it steamed on the fire. “It seems like everything is only getting worse for everyone. Did you see how many had trouble making their tribute yesterday.”

“Yeah.” Goku pulled a face, scrunching his nose and forehead.

“I want to help, so I did what I could, but I know I can't help everyone. Even with my current string of good fortune, it can't last.” He frowned to himself when he recalled where that fortune sourced from. “We all do what we have to. It's just as he says.”

Goku looked like he was about to say something, then clammed up tight and nodded. “I guess, but I wish it weren't like that. I still think we can take a hand when it's held out to us, and hold out whatever we got to offer.”

Hakkai raised an eyebrow. “Ah, even when we all stand on such shaky ground?”

“Yeah.” Goku nodded squarely, and Hakkai couldn't help but smile.

“I appreciate your optimism. I think there's more tea in the pot, please pass me your cup.”

Goku frowned, but held his cup out, and Hakkai filled it, wondering if he could find that optimism for himself, or at least solid ground. Even Sen Sou had something else to depend on, shouldn't he?

\--------------------------------

In the tiny space between the back of the tent and the fence that divided the market street from the homes behind it, Gojyo observed with keen interest as 'Genjo' filled his kiseru with tobacco from a tiny mesh pouch, struck a flint on his tent pole, and lit the bowl. He sucked the smoke down and blew a smoke ring, and Gojyo swatted at it, bringing the smoke closer to his face.

“That's one hell of a trick!”

“It's not a trick, it's just smoking.” 'Genjo' took a few more puffs.

Gojyo pointed at the bowl and the tobacco pouch. “What's it for?” 

“To help me relax. The smoke makes me feel less tense.” Genjo tapped a little ash from the bowl, then dragged again. Gojyo pulled the smoke towards himself again, waving it towards his face, sniffing it. He coughed, then rubbed his nose.

“I can kinda feel it, too. That's something, yeah.” He reached for the bag. “Let me see!”

“No!” 'Genjo' snatched it back. “There are days I can't eat, it's rare I can afford this at all.”

“Hmph, yeah, there is that.” Gojyo crossed his arms and watched 'Genjo' take another drag, the wrinkles between his eyebrows seeming to sink away as he exhaled. “You got a lot of nerve pretending to be broke and need help when you obviously can work.”

“Hmph.” 'Genjo' raised an eyebrow at him. “And you have a lot of nerve giving me shit when you're pretending to be human.” Gojyo started for a second, and 'Genjo' faced him, eye to eye. “I don't know what kind of demon you are, but there's something not human in your eyes.” Gojyo sealed his lips, nostrils flaring, and 'Genjo' narrowed his eyes. “You don't know how much you could hurt Hakkai and everyone around him. The only thing that keeps me from exorcising you here and now is that you seem benevolent.”

“I'm not a demon,” Gojyo muttered, tearing his focus away from 'Genjo's' face. “And I don't know what you mean by exorcise. I mean, we already walked here--”

“Idiot.” 'Genjo' scoffed. “But even if you're a good luck spirit, even if you think you're helping Hakkai, even then, you need to take responsibility and a good hard look at what you're doing.” 'Genjo' wagged the pipe at him. “You could do so much more harm than good.”

“I'm helping him!” Gojyo threw his hands out, then forced his voice to a hush. “Man, you're the one that needs to take a look at stuff. It ain't so bad to help someone else out, is it? I'm here 'cause I wanna be, anyway, and if I help Hakkai for as long as he's willing to put up with me, then that's good, right?” 'Genjo' scoffed, and Gojyo huffed and crossed his arms for a second, then flung a hand out. “Gimme the pipe, I wanna try one puff.”

“Hmph.” 'Genjo' glanced at the pipe, then held it out, turning the mouth towards him. “One puff. You have no idea how much tobacco costs.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gojyo took the pipe by its stem, studied the bowl for a moment, then put the pipe to his lips and blew as hard as he could. Hot, charred tobacco leaves flew out like a volcanic spurt, and 'Genjo' sputtered and swiped hot ash from his face and arms.

“You fucking moron, you're supposed to suck on it and blow it out!”

Gojyo, coughing and brushing ash off himself, choked on a laugh. “Hell, it's funny, you could probably say that about your friend in there, or is love against your shitty fake religion too?”

The tent shuddered, Gojyo shouted, and Hakkai and Goku both jumped and turned at a ruckus from behind them. They both hurried out, just in time to catch Gojyo catching 'Genjo's' fist before it could hit his eye. Goku shouted and grabbed 'Genjo's' arms, and Hakkai put himself between 'Genjo' and Gojyo.

“Knock it off!” Goku held 'Genjo' until he stopped struggling. “What happened?” Goku glanced around 'Genjo' to Gojyo, who shrugged roughly and avoided Hakkai's gaze.

“I was teasin' him a little, that's all.”

“Hmph.” 'Genjo' broke out of Goku's hold, and Goku let go as if he hadn't meant to be holding him at all. “I don't have time for you. Leave, all of you, I have more work I can do.”

Gojyo's lip curled, and Hakkai realized Goku was wilting a little behind him. “We'll go, then. Goku, why don't you walk back with us?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Goku broke away from 'Genjo' to Hakkai's side, but just as Hakkai moved to usher them out, 'Genjo' seized his shoulder.

“Listen,” he muttered, “There is a price to everything, a value, and you may not yet perceive the true weight of your actions. You're not stupid, so think.” He gripped and squeezed Hakkai's shoulder. “Otherwise, you may find yourself casting pearls before swine.”

Hakkai blinked with surprise. “Do you think I am blind to the value of what I hold? It's not my intention to waste the opportunities I have.”

'Genjo' bared his teeth in a snarl, expression as dark as the clouds that had begun to gather silently in the sky. “You don't even understand, do you?”

Hakkai clamped a hand over 'Genjo's,' then gingerly detached him. “I know of risk, reward, and waste. You know very well my perspective. I know what my risks are, and I intend to mitigate them until I can alleviate them.”

“Hmph.” 'Genjo' stepped back towards the fence abutting his tent space. “At least watch your ass if you're not going to look past the end of your nose. Your stunt yesterday is still causing ripples, and in waters this deep, you're bound to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

This struck a chord with Hakkai, and he found himself glancing back towards Gojyo where he waited with Goku just inside the tent. He shook his head. “You know I know to be careful.”

Hakkai heard 'Genjo' scoffing at him again as he departed, joining Gojyo and Goku. They had been talking in quiet voices, but went quiet when Hakkai came in. Hakkai smiled for both of their benefits. “Why don't I get some materials? I'd like to mend the fence outside my house before it gets too cold. Goku, if you promise to help me replace the beams, I'll feed you tonight.”

Goku smiled, but it was as dim as the sky outside. “Yeah, sure, sounds awesome.” Hakkai hoped to make that enthusiasm a little more genuine as he led them out onto the market street.

The sky continued to darken as Hakkai lightened his pockets, but he was able to place the order for the lumber he wanted and purchased straw from a weaver, then led Gojyo and Goku back. He found himself looking back at the pair of them as they walked, Gojyo a little slower and occasionally grinding his teeth as he found all the pebbles under his feet and Goku happy to loll at his side. He felt worse for Gojyo by the moment, and couldn't call back to say, “Are you quite alright, Gojyo?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Gojyo chuckled a little, waving a hand towards Hakkai as if to push his concerns off. Hakkai smiled mildly, almost to himself rather than at Gojyo, and faced front again.

Just then, the long grasses at the side of the road shifted, though there was no breeze, and Goku stopped moving. “Hakkai,” he said in a low voice, and Hakkai stopped too, because the complete absence of Goku's usual spirit in his voice was as uncanny as the way the grass was moving. Hakkai faced Goku, as he urgently mouthed, 'We're not alone.'

Almost as if they knew they'd been made, a small crowd of men wearing earth-toned clothes and scarves or masks over their faces burst from the grass, bearing clubs and knives. Gojyo shouted and made to put himself between Hakkai and the assailant nearest him, but Hakkai instinctively kicked at the man's gut, knocking him back before the club he was swinging could strike him. Hakkai snatched the club out of his hands, and jumped into the fray.

Behind him, Goku roared and swung his way through, and Hakkai knew where to hit someone where it would hurt. Gojyo tried hard to go for the sensitive places with his fingernails and fists, but Hakkai could tell it never occurred to him to use his legs or knees to kick, and he wasn't much for dodging, especially when he was still stumbling on unsteady feet. Hakkai tried to put himself between Gojyo and the grasses, but he wasn't enough, and Gojyo still yelled with pain behind him. Hakkai immediately whipped around and swung at the head of the attacker who'd hit Gojyo, as Gojyo doubled over and covered his arm, failing to hide the blood streaming down his shoulders. Hakkai stood over Gojyo. 

“I'm sorry about this. It'll be alright!” He fought on through the fray, worry now gnawing through him and as pained as if he'd taken the blow himself.

At the end of it, most of the attackers were unconscious around him, Goku had a few bruises, and Gojyo was still nursing his shoulder, rubbing at his face. Hakkai, out of breath, surveyed the damage done, then turned back towards them. “Are the both of you alright?”

Goku spit some grass out, then smeared his mouth off. “I beat myself up more carrying the water barrel around.” He looked to Gojyo, the winced. “Oh, man, they got ya good, huh?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Gojyo muttered, then wiped his hand off on the inside of his trouser pocket. His eyes were red, and Hakkai wondered if the shock of the pain had made him cry. Gojyo, however, looked up at Hakkai and forced a smile. “Hey, though, don't go making faces at me. Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine.” Hakkai looked himself over; he was sure he'd taken a punch or two, but he couldn't feel any bruises. He knelt down by Gojyo. “Let me see the wound.”

“No, no, it's nothing, okay?” Gojyo chuckled, hard and forced, then got his foot under him to get back to a stand. “You're sure you're good?”

“Completely fine.” He smiled wryly to himself as he got back up at Gojyo's side, still observing him. He tried a joke on for size: “I don't even think I was robbed. Luckily, I didn't have too much on me to steal today.” He tried to laugh it off, but there was truth in it: if he had more money, he stood to lose more. Luckily, though Gojyo was making a weird, nauseous face, Goku managed to laugh too.

“Yeah, definitely,” Goku said, and loped up alongside them. “We ought'a get out of here before they start waking up.” 

“Yeah, seconded,” Gojyo said, turning back for him, but his first step was a limp, and Hakkai winced. 

“Do you want me to carry you?” Goku and Gojyo both turned, surprised at this, but Hakkai offered his arm. “I can carry you if you're injured.”

“Nah, I can walk on my own two feet.” Gojyo shook his head a little, but he patted and squeezed Hakkai's shoulder. “I'll let you know if I need it.”

“Please do.” Hakkai would have loaded Gojyo onto his shoulders then and there, but Gojyo was larger than him and it would be a task without him agreeing to it. “We're friends, after all. I can carry your load if you like.”

“I'm fine walking.” Gojyo set his shoulders back, grounding his heels on the dusty path, then winked at Hakkai. “Just, stay at my side, won'cha?”

Hakkai found himself looking at Gojyo's feet, at his wound, and thinking that he'd like nothing more than for Gojyo to walk at his side. “For as long as we can.”

Hakkai caught Goku giving them a wary look and a little smile, but the three of them left together as quickly as they could with Gojyo's limp. Hakkai's chest sunk a little more with every sagging step. He hoped that the attempted robbery was mere coincidence, but 'Genjo's' warning still echoed in his mind.

\--------------------------------

Koushu tapped her foot impatiently as she waited at her window for word from her personal search party. She was mid-beat when a guard knocked and alerted her that one of her servants had returned. “Shall I ask what news he's brought?”

“I'll see him personally.” She whirled for the door, pushing her skirts behind her, then paused to glower at the guard. “And do not interrupt me.”

“Ma'am.” He bowed his head as she hurried past. She knew she was being triflesome, but she was queen here, so who could stop her?

Koushu found one of her hired men, one with short-cropped hair, thin eyebrows, and a scar on his forehead made purple with a bruise, gave a languid bow. She fixed him with a glare and folded her arms. “Did you deal with that man?”

“He had friends, some strong kid and a stranger.” The thug rubbed at his forehead. “Your pig farmer got away with his money in his pocket, but I heard him say something funny.”

“I'm not laughing.” Koushu folded her arms, drawing herself up. “Explain.”

“He said he didn't have 'too much to steal today.'” The guy grinned crookedly. “That means he's got more.” 

“Ah.” Koushu tapped her lower lip, thinking, smirking. “Interesting.”

“And the guy with him, it's this guy with this long red hair. Pretty distinct, you know?” The hired man put a smirk on. “I asked about him on my way here. He's new in town, nobody knows who he is. Call it rogue's intuition, but I don't think it's a coin-ki-dink that your farmer's rolling in it just after meeting this new guy.”

“I see.” Koushu felt something spark in her. “A complete stranger on my land, bringing riches with him? I'll have to acquaint myself with him.” She turned, saying more to herself than to the hired man, “This is my land, after all; there is nothing my subjects should have that I am not entitled to my share of.” She motioned to the man. “Find out more, and keep it quiet from my stepson. Rest assured that if your search is fruitful, you will be suitably rewarded.”

“Ma'am.” The man with the short hair bowed lazily, smirking already as he departed. Koushu did not consider herself patient, she knew it a flaw of hers (that she would never acknowledge), but she had enough patience when there was a worthwhile reward in mind.

“Curious,” she said to herself, turning back to the window where it faced the southern sea. “A distinctive stranger. Perhaps fate has finally chosen to grant my demand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will, unfortunately, conclude my rapid-fire update on this story, as I had stockpiled the bulk of this for the Weiss v. Saiyuki battle. I hope to get back to it soon, but unfortunately, I am working on some time-sensitive projects. Thank you in advance for your patience!


	9. Flash and Substance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As concerns over his current reality swell, Hakkai considers an intangible, unsure future.

**9: Flash and Substance**

Even with the money from the pearls still there, Hakkai knew he would bore with nothing to do. The rice fields still needed tending, and the rice still filled their bellies at night, so work Hakkai did, only now he minded less that Gojyo was less than apt with a rake and scythe. After all, Gojyo was still staggering barefoot through the uneven ground, grimacing at lumps of clay and every rock he found under the soft soles of his feet. Given Gojyo's continued befuddlement at simple tools, it was no surprise that the large needle he dug out of Mother's basket perplexed him.

“Oi, oi, what the hell is that for?” Gojyo had been helping with the washing up when Hakkai broke out the sewing kit, and he nearly dropped the bowl into the washbasin at the sight of the needle.

“You saw me sew your clothes, this is just like that needle but a bit larger.” Hakkai held it out, showing the eye as long as a grain of rice. “It's blunted, too, so you needn't be frightened of it.”

“I ain't _frightened_ or whatever, I just wanna know what it's for.” Gojyo cocked his head at it. “Looks like it came off an urchin.”

“Merely bamboo.” Hakkai turned it over, then showed him some of the dried bulrush strips he'd gotten at the market. “It's meant for weaving dried reeds, like these.” Hakkai settled on his cushion by the table and lifted his father's old sandals up, then threaded a bulrush into the needle. “I intend to use them to repair these old shoes, like so.” He demonstrated by tucking the needle into the weft and weaving it through and around. Gojyo observed, then nodded.

“Makes sense, yeah. Okay.” Clearly reassured, he continued the washing. “You could just buy new shoes. Those look kinda big for your feet.”

“Ah, they are.” Hakkai glanced down to his feet. They weren't small, not dainty little bellflowers with buttercup toes like Kanan's, but they were nowhere near as thick and strong as Father's, and that had been a point of contention, hadn't it? “No, I could never wear these. But these aren't for me, they're for you.”

Gojyo paused in washing again, cocking his head. “Wait, really?”

“Your feet are always bleeding, Gojyo.” Hakkai shook his head a bit, continuing to work and tucking the bulrush tight against the old row. The older straw seemed to crumble a little, and Hakkai wrinkled his nose and wondered if he might be better off just replacing the shoes in their entirety. No, no; Gojyo deserved a keepsake. “I wanted to repair these so you could protect your feet from the ground.”

“Ah, come on.” Gojyo put his hands on his hips, long fingers curving down his thighs, and he shook his head hard. “I'm just not used to walking around so much! It's kinda weird for someone like me to be on land this long, that's all.”

“And for that, I am grateful.” Hakkai pointedly turned the needle through the weft of the shoe again. “I am grateful you've stayed as long as you have, so I wish to make it as easy on you as possible.”

Gojyo's mouth shifted, working for a moment, and he cocked his head to the other side. “You don't gotta. I'm making do just fine.”

“I don't want to leave you in pain for my sake, Gojyo.” Hakkai shook his head again. “Will you at least try them for me when they're done?”

“Sure, but I'm tellin' ya, you don't gotta bother.”

“I want to.” Hakkai shook his head. “You've been such a help to me, after all.”

“Well, yeah, 'cause I wanna do that too.” Gojyo continued the washing, not looking at Hakkai and instead making faces at the basin.

Hakkai, however, found himself looking at Gojyo again. “That is... something we should discuss.” He set the needle down. “I can't keep taking advantage of you and your pearl diving skills.”

“Huh?” Gojyo cocked his head again, those long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked back surprise. Then, he looked put out. “But I like doin' it. I don't mind gettin' you pearls, it's actually kinda fun for me.”

“But you slough off your calluses every time you submerge, you told me as much.” Hakkai jabbed the needle in again, swiftly weaving the bulrush through and tucking the weave into the weft, taut and close. “I'd rather you not hurt yourself over and over, especially if there are diminishing returns.”

“What?” Gojyo put his hands on his hips. “I can get more. I told you, I don't mind, and they're good!”

“No, no, that's just the problem.” Hakkai waved his hand a little, still pinching the needle carefully. “I told you, after all. The pearls, or the profit, can't last forever; if I flood the market by selling too many, then their value will decrease. They bring a tidy profit because of their rarity, after all.”

“Yeah, well, I can't make enough pearls for the whole world, maybe you could sell 'em other places.” Gojyo crossed his arms, but Hakkai sighed. It was so hard to deny him, not when those eyes caught the firelight.

“I'm less than inclined to leave this town, Gojyo.”

“But you need money to stay!” He flung a hand out in gesture, teeth gritted with surprising despair.

“I do,” Hakkai agreed with a weak little laugh, thinking almost ruefully of Gojyo's earlier protests of the obsession with money that seemed to plague the town. “And you have given me much. However, I do need to stand on my own.” He lowered his gaze back to the shoe in his hand. “It's unfair for me to depend on you when I can't depend on myself.”

“What?” Gojyo huffed. “What's so wrong with depending on someone else?”

“Something Sen Sou told me made me think.” Hakkai brushed his hair back from his face and eyes as he thought about Sen Sou's wearied expression, his obvious exhaustion not just of his day, but of everything around him. “Seeing him try for himself, it's inspiring, really, and a reminder that even someone low can work hard to stand on their own.”

Gojyo made a face and snorted. “I dunno, I think stuff works better when people are together. That's what having a pod's for, safety in numbers and all.”

“Yes, but I don't have a pod, or family.” Hakkai turned his attention back to his father's shoes. “I'm on my own, so I must learn to stand on my own. I need to be able to stand on my own.”

“Huh.” Gojyo didn't sound convinced, but instead watched a few moments more as Hakkai finished weaving the last of the bulrush into place. It would be a project, Hakkai knew, especially when he felt the old reed crumbling away as he worked, but it would be worth it so that Gojyo could stand on his own two feet more easily. Somehow or other, he needed to do the same for himself.

Sen Sou had reminded him of how he needed to stand on his own, for certain, but also to know the worth of what was before him, and how quickly, how easily one could end up alone. The shoes were almost a play at an impossible goal, the conversation almost farcical: Hakkai knew that Gojyo wouldn't, couldn't stay with him forever. If he wore the shoes once, it would be miraculous, and if Hakkai got even a fraction more help from Gojyo, it would be too much. Gojyo was a visitor, and Hakkai wouldn't, couldn't hold on when he decided his stay had ended.

* * *

 

Summer was shifting into autumn far too quickly, the skies gray and clouded over, a chill in the air. The rice in the paddies still needed tending, even though the stalks shivered in the wind and the water was chilly around their ankles. Hakkai still needed rice to eat, so he and Gojyo were out most mornings hard at work in the fields. Hakkai could see Gojyo gradually getting a little better at the work, being a little more thorough at getting the weeds that cluttered up the roots or spotting where an area needed a little more tending. Even so, the paymaster often put Gojyo at less skilled tasks, running water barrels around the fields and ferrying messages or directions between the workers and the paymaster. Gojyo may not have known the first thing about growing rice a few weeks ago, or even the second and third things now, but he could walk and he could talk, and he was friendly enough to joke and laugh with the workers as he went. Hakkai didn't mind them being separated, because he could see Gojyo from his place most of the time, and though he worried for Gojyo on his own, with nobody else who knew his truth, his secret, to mind him, Gojyo seemed to be able to stick to his tasks well enough without causing trouble for himself.

Besides that, it may have been a little easier to think about his situation when he and Gojyo were apart, so he thought. After all, it was unrealistic to think Gojyo would be with him forever.

He had options, perhaps. He could try to use the money Gojyo was providing him to start a new business. He could purchase new pigs, a new drove, and start raising them for slaughter again, perhaps even begin to breed his own stock if he could. He briefly entertained Goku's idea of teaching the village children to read and write, but nearly laughed aloud; he may have had some money now, but he still recalled just how many people had come up short on their seasonal tributes. No matter how little he asked, none would be able to afford him. Besides, what would learning to read and write accomplish other than giving the children dreams of schools too far away for them to attend? Employment in distant places? Hakkai had those dreams once, but he was contented now just with the thought of staying here. Living here. Dying here. He would just prefer not to do the latter any sooner than he had to.

He wasn't alone, either. He knew he wasn't the only one looking for some way out of the hole they were in, nor the only man who would be starving if what few things he still had were swept out from under him. So, think he would.

“Perhaps,” he mused, “If I become profitable on my own, I can begin to pay others to work for me, and in money rather than meat.” The trick there would be getting his business under him, and building it up around him like the walls of a home until it really could provide shelter for himself, let alone others.

When day's end came, Gojyo was still afield, though Hakkai was certain he couldn't have gotten lost. More likely, he'd been getting chummy with some of the cheeky teenagers. Hakkai dawdled in the yard to wait for him to return and collect his day's earnings, washing his face in the well and stretching his arms and legs out. It was rare he had time to mull on just how sore the backbreaking work could make him, how tired he could get, and such moments were rarer still now that so much of his idle time was filled with Gojyo, with mild conversations and contented joking. He couldn't be entirely ungrateful for that, and would relish every moment of that he could have.

He could be honest with himself and admit that time spent with Gojyo was happier than any other way he could have spent it, even if he didn't want himself to get too used to it.

It was when he went to pour some cool water from the well onto his sore arms that he heard his name being called: “Oi! Hakkai! Cho Hakkai!” Hakkai turned to see a few other men near his age congregated near the storage barn. One man was already wearing a jacket and shivering off the fall chill as the sun set, and one even had a tattered scarf that had probably been used to hold his longish hair from his face but was now wrapped halfway around his face, collecting condensation as he caught his breath. They all looked about as exhausted as he felt. Hakkai trudged over to join them, shaking his legs and arms off, but one man swung an arm out as he came close. “Here he is! The town hero!”

Hakkai dodged under the arm aimed to go around his shoulder to join the little huddle. “I wouldn't call myself that.”

“No?” One of the other men, a bigger man with scruffy hair, chuckled a little. “If I knew you to be a drinker, Cho, I'd have to buy you a bottle. You kept my mother from punishment. Last season, they took her wooden teeth, and when she did pony up, the damned collectors said they'd gotten termites and wouldn't give them back. I imagine they might take a finger off or something this time.”

Hakkai grimaced, but knew there to be no point in denying it. “I am grateful I had the good fortune that I could help so many.”

“Good fortune, eh?” The man in the scarf tossed his hair, so slicked with sweat and oil it nearly looked green, and his teeth looking just a little too sharp when he grinned. “Is that what you call it?”

“It is what it is,” Hakkai demurred, ducking again as the scarf-wearer tried to clap his shoulder. He knew he'd known most of these men, at least in passing, but he'd never been especially social but for the conversations Kanan would drag him into, and those were with the village women more often than men. If he knew these men's names, he would have forgotten them. “It was a stroke of good luck that gave me the money to help, and that was all it was.”

“What, did some wealthy relative die? I thought you were out of family,” a man with crooked teeth laughed, and Hakkai grimaced.

“I wouldn't call that fortunate--”

“Ooh, did you dig up buried treasure?” The man in the scarf grinned again, trying to elbow Hakkai's ribs and actually making contact this time. Hakkai deliberately stepped back from the huddle, and the man in the scarf threw him an offended scowl. “What, what's your big secret?”

“There's no secret.” Hakkai quickly shook his head and waved a hand. “I sold some of my parents' possessions, and they were more valuable than they initially appeared.”

“What?”

“No way, was that all?” The other men in the huddle moaned their disappointment, and Hakkai shook his head to himself.

“I don't have much more, but it was my desire to share what I had. If you'll excuse me.” Hakkai didn't want to be part of the conversation any longer, and he very nearly turned to leave, to find Gojyo rather than stand with these men a moment longer waiting on him, but the man in the scarf hooked his arm.

“Come on, come on, Mr. Show-Off, you gotta help us.” He held Hakkai's gaze, smirking just a little. “I mean, come on, man, you know you've just wagged your purse at the bitch on the hill. You don't seem like the flashy type – I wish that could have been me! – but you've chummed the waters.”

“Yeah,” another man muttered, rubbing his hands together either out of a chill or nerves. “I heard some of Koushu's people talking, saying they think she's going to hit hard next time. We're coming in to winter soon, and I don't think anyone's going to be ready.”

Hakkai's gut sank, but he had resigned himself to his own fate. “How awful.”

“'How awful?' Is that all you have to say?” The man with the scruffy hair scoffed, and Hakkai winced on the inside but forced his mouth to a firm line. The man in the scarf didn't let go of him, either, and the scruffy-haired man seemed to puff his chest up. “Folks are going to lose a lot, and here you are with some sort of stash! You gotta spill your secret, for real!”

“There is no secret! I haven't any more to give.” Hakkai felt his gut ache with guilt, as if he'd jammed a knife in and twisted it. “I had what fortune I had and shared. I can't keep this village afloat on my own.”

“You selfish bastard!” The man in the scarf suddenly took a swing at Hakkai, and struck his jaw hard. Hakkai staggered back, but the hit wasn't particularly hard, and the pain ebbed back quickly, chased by a rush of frustration.

“Hitting me will not knock coins out.” He dusted his face and shoulders, color heating his cheeks through the chill. A few of the other men tried to restrain the man in the scarf, and he twisted, teeth gritted like some sort of demon. Hakkai wouldn't be daunted, and he shook his head. “I'm not a cash box, I shared my generosity when I had enough to share, but I owe you nothing.”

“You can't just abandon your village! You can't abandon me, I'm better than that!” The man in the scarf twisted again, trying to kick at Hakkai, but just as he got loose and lunged for Hakkai, a flash of red passed by Hakkai in a blink and a single held breath.

“Lay off, asshole!” Gojyo was between Hakkai and the man in the scarf, hackles raised and fingers bent. Hakkai remembered the thin, fine claws Gojyo had in his natural form, and knew that if Gojyo were in that form, Gojyo would likely be using them now and the man in the scarf would be shy an eye. Gojyo instead swung hard, sloppy punches and swipes of his hands, as Hakkai caught his balance again. The man in the scarf struggled against Gojyo, but Gojyo grappled and gripped at him, bruising his arms as he finally got a hold on him, hissing in his throat like a snake. “You don't touch him, fucker, he helped you and all the rest of you!”

“Another flashy bastard!” The man in the scarf spit in Gojyo's face. Gojyo smeared his face off, baring his teeth again. They were sharper. Hakkai could almost see Gojyo about to change if it meant he could fight harder, and he hurriedly hooked Gojyo by his arm and tugged him back.

“We're leaving. I've done what I can, and if you wish to consider that flashy, I suggest you find a way to outshine me.” Hakkai pulled Gojyo close and whispered, “Let's not cause trouble,” and forced him around. Gojyo bent to Hakkai's touch, but he still growled when he spoke.

“The sonofabitch goes after you after what you did, what the fuck was that about?!”

“He wanted more of me,” Hakkai said under his breath as he hurried Gojyo away down the road. “This is why I need to stop giving so much.”

Hakkai halted at the side of the road once they were well away from the rice paddies and the other workers, then turned and forced Gojyo to look at him. Gojyo seemed to take him in with curiosity and only a hint of the anger that had burned so hot in him mere minutes before, as Hakkai touched down his arms and shoulders. “Are you in pain? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Hakkai could see little bruises on his arms and a scuff on his face, just inside of his scars, but Gojyo shook him off. “I'm fine, what about you?” He roughly touched Hakkai's face. “He got you good, right here.”

Hakkai felt a twinge of pain at Gojyo's touch, but it faded fast, like the original bruise had. “It didn't hurt so much. It must have been a glancing blow, but Gojyo, you were thick in the fray.” He ran the pad of his finger over Gojyo's cheek, and though Gojyo's eye twitched at the contact, he caught Hakkai's hand. “Gojyo?”

“I'm fine, I'm tellin' ya.” He studied Hakkai for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you look pretty okay. Still, is that what humans are like when you help each other?” He set his face in an angry line, even as Hakkai shook his head.

“It's envy, merely envy.” He turned, away from the paddies and the other villagers there. “Most of those I helped were likely grateful for what I gave, but by drawing attention to myself, I've made myself a target.” He winced to himself as he wondered just how many others might have considered shaking him down for more. “Like the robbers on the road the other day. This is why I need to be more careful with the gifts you've given me. This is why I shouldn't accept any more of them.” He hung his head. “I think I need to sink back down to the life of a simple pig farmer.”

“Aw, hell.” Gojyo spit at the ground, and Hakkai nearly scolded him for picking up a nasty habit, but Gojyo didn't give him a chance: “You deserve better than that.”

“But I don't want it.” Hakkai shook his head. “I miss a life where nobody looked at me twice. I don't want any more than that.” He withdrew from Gojyo, and scarcely caught Gojyo's wide-eyed expression. “Were you in pain?”

“No. I've been hurt worse, anyway.” He rubbed his hand over his cheek and the bruise. “If... if simple's what you want, I'll do what I can to help ya.” He glared back, eyes flashing in the sunset light. “And I'll deal with anyone else like that who gets in your way.”

“I don't need that either. You truly owe me nothing, Gojyo.” Hakkai continued moving for home, even as Gojyo lowered his head again, maybe in thought. Gojyo understood so little of this world, Hakkai knew, but he was less naive.

He couldn't keep taking such risks, even for what could have been precious rewards. Hakkai knew what lay down that path, and for the scant moments he could keep Gojyo in this place, at his side, he wanted to stay on the safer path. He wanted Gojyo to be happy, not to drag his feet around with that pensive look. Maybe there was something he could do, but first, he had to get started back towards his safe spot.

He had no way of knowing of the danger brewing at the rice paddy, where the man with the scarf skulked off from being told off by the paymaster for fighting and went to check his face in a basin of water. He groaned and moaned at the bruises: “As if I didn't have a hard enough time getting laid in this worthless town.” He rubbed at the scratches Gojyo had left, grimacing as they kept bleeding. “Who the hell is that red-haired guy, anyway?”

“Y'know,” someone said behind him, and he jumped and turned to see one of Koushu's thugs sauntering towards him. “My boss has been wondering the same thing.” The short-haired thug with the tattoo grinned at him. “Pomegranate, isn't it?”

“Zakuro!” He snapped, tearing his scarf from his face. “If I weren't flat broke, then you and every other lowlife in this town would know my name!”

“Zakuro, Zakuro, right.” The thug laughed sharply. “Well, I'm Banri, and I think you and me have something in common.” He clicked his tongue and motioned to Zakuro. “You looking for some easy cash? I might have a little idea that'll get your attention, flashy guy...”

 


	10. Thirst...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai seeks more than what he has directly in front of him, as Gojyo learns just what it is to be thirsty.

**10: Thirst...**

“You really gonna do this?” Gojyo was lolling with his face on the table, eyes rolled up and his gaze lazily following Hakkai as he shook his jacket out over the steaming teapot. Hakkai pursed his lips tight, subtly waving the warm steam towards himself as the wrinkles in his fall jacket released.

“I am, Gojyo. It's a bit late to back away now, isn't it?” He smiled emptily over the collar of his jacket, and Gojyo rolled his eyes and slumped a little deeper, poking absently at his congee.

“I told you, I'll get you lots of pearls. You'll never have to work again.”

“And you know, as I've told you, why I won't accept that.” Hakkai slid his warm, wrinkle-free jacket over his shoulders, then went to the storage box and found Father's old spare jacket. “Here, slip this on. It's gotten cold.” He shook the jacket out and lay it on Gojyo's shoulders, and Gojyo, grumbling, worked his arms into it.

“Can't move as easy with all this on,” he groused, and Hakkai chose to respond with polite silence as he crossed to the window and checked his reflection in the rain barrel. The scuff on his face had healed quickly, which had given Hakkai a chance to write to the traders and ask them to meet with him to discuss purchasing a new drove of pigs. A few sows, one fat boar, enough to start ranching again. Gojyo had objected every time it came up, for the entire two weeks, and his frustration seemed to be rubbing off on the things that did make him happy. Hakkai could only hope getting the meeting done and setting everything in stone might force him to accept it. However, as Gojyo got settled with his jacket, he prodded at the other point of contention: "You're sure you don't want me to go with ya?"

Hakkai did like the sentiment, if nothing else. Gojyo had been puffing himself up a little whenever Hakkai passed by some of the other villagers, obviously feeling at least a little protective. He'd readily admitted as much: "What if someone goes for you again? The last idiot might not have done any damage, but what if you ain't so lucky next time?" It was endearing, thinking of Gojyo as a protective dog, or perhaps a shark, circling around his legs, but at the same time, Hakkai found it entirely unnecessary, and knew it would only trip him up.

"Nobody has tried anything since that one man." Hakkai spoke with measured patience, as if Gojyo were a recalcitrant student and not an overprotective friend. “I'd very much prefer to handle this myself.”

Gojyo scowled, sticking his jaw out mulishly. “Why?”

Why indeed. If Hakkai were being honest, he'd admit he was somewhat worried over how this meeting would go, and he was worried that he'd have to rein Gojyo in to keep his naivete about the human world from disturbing the meeting. Worse, if the trader thought Hakkai a rube, Hakkai would likely end up paying much more for the pigs than he would have otherwise, and without direct knowledge of how much the pigs should cost, he needed every bargaining chip he had. Instead, he smiled and said, “Because I'd prefer you work today to ensure we can eat well tonight.”

“You can buy stuff for dinner. I know you still got pearls you can sell, and I can get you more whenever.” Gojyo folded his arms, clearly trying for contrite when all Hakkai could see was cross. He forcefully maintained his smile.

"Yes, but the apples in the orchard are fresh, and I'd love a bushel picked out of my home village.”

That got Gojyo's attention, eyebrows bouncing. “Apples? I can get ya apples.” His face split into a grin. “I don't know what a bushel is, but if it's apples you want, I'll get 'em for ya.” He cocked his head, hands on his hips. “What's a bushel? Is it anything like a barrel?”

“I'd explain it, but it will be much easier for Goku to show you.” Hakkai buttoned his jacket up. “I believe he said he would be working at the orchards until the harvest was done, why don't I see if he'll keep you company today?”

“Yeah, that sounds alright.” Gojyo grinned, and went to imitate Hakkai in buttoning his jacket. He fumbled with the buttons, chewing on his lip and closing one eye to try and focus on it, as Hakkai chuckled to himself and slid his shoes on. That Gojyo was accepting of it was reassuring, as would knowing Gojyo wouldn't be completely alone was the important thing.

“I'm glad. Things will look up after today, I'm certain of it.” Hakkai rinsed the bowls out in the rainbarrel and motioned to the door. “Let's not dawdle. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come home.”

“Is that how that works?” Gojyo loped a step behind him, clearly amused, though the tightness wasn't completely gone from his face. Hakkai could still see him limping when he walked. For a moment, Hakkai fancied just buying Gojyo a pair of shoes, but no. It would mean more to give him the hand-me-downs.

It would mean more to Hakkai, at least. He didn't know how sentimental merfolk might be. Perhaps he should find out, but then again, perhaps it was better not to know if Gojyo wouldn't miss him. It would be nicer to think that Gojyo might tuck the things Hakkai was giving him into some little grotto, to visit it when he cared to and to remember him fondly, but only to think about it rather than ask and be disappointed.

Hakkai knew just which road to take to cross paths with Goku, and sure enough, Goku was hollering and running towards them as they approached the village. “Hey guys! How ya been!” He wasn't wearing a jacket, though he'd switched to long pants, but the autumn chill obviously hadn't dampened his spirits in the slightest, his smile still bright in the gray. Hakkai, naturally, smiled back.

“We've been well!” He stepped aside to clear the path between Goku and Gojyo. “I was just headed to the market.”

“Oh?” Goku wagged an eyebrow and winked at Gojyo. “More pearls?”

“No, not today.” Hakkai stifled a giggle. “In fact, I was going to purchase swine.”

Goku gasped with surprise, but his usual enthusiasm seemed somehow muted, like a cloud over an otherwise sunny day. “Really? You're gonna get more pigs?” He cocked his head for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, good luck!” He grinned with all his teeth, but it didn't ring true. Hakkai wanted to ask why he seemed disappointed, but then he realized: Goku had likely been hoping for Hakkai to teach.

“I do hope it goes well. After all, getting my ranch started up again could open up lots of opportunities for me.” He leaned in, trying to sound mollifying. “I tend the pigs in the morning and evening, I work the rice fields for a bit, I teach when I have students, it'll be a nice life if only I can put it in place.”

Goku relaxed, though Hakkai had hardly noticed his tension until it left him. “Yeah, that does sound pretty good.”

“I thought you'd agree.” Hakkai chuckled, then motioned to Gojyo. “I was going on my own, but would you mind taking Gojyo with you today? I'd rather him not get lost, he may not be as familiar with the area yet but I'm sending him somewhere new.”

“Oh!” That got the excitement, the big grin, the bright eyes. “For sure! C'mon, Gojyo!”

“Yeah, sure.” Gojyo chuckled, but hesitated to break from Hakkai's side, holding his gaze a moment longer. “Be careful, won'cha?”

“You know I will, Gojyo.” Hakkai extended a hand, meaning to move some of his hair from his face so he could look into his eyes full on, but settling for patting his shoulder. “You'll see me tonight, and with good news.”

“Yeah, and you'll see me with that bush of apples!”nGojyo pumped his fist, but Goku chuckled.

“They grow on trees. What language do you speak?”

Gojyo whipped around on Goku. “What, don't you understand me? I dunno if I gotta use shorter words on ya, or maybe I ought'a start using hand signals?” He punched Goku in the shoulder, and Goku laughed and punched him back.

“No wonder Hakkai wants me to keep an eye on ya! You're so dumb you'd be lost in a conversation, let alone in town!” Goku laughed as Gojyo slung an arm around him, and the two of them squabbled and shoved at each other. However, just as Hakkai turned, Gojyo spun back around to hail him.

“Hey, hey! Hakkai!” Gojyo waved, pumping his arm. “Promise me you'll do something nice for yourself! Something that'll make you happy! Get yourself a book or something!”

Hakkai shook his head a little, but smiled to himself and called back, “I will, certainly!” He waved, and Gojyo waved back until they crossed into town, and Hakkai turned for the market. It was something else he could keep in his mind: having and keeping Gojyo's companionship was one of the kindest things he could do for himself. For however long his companionship with Gojyo lasted, he would enjoy it.

* * *

The orchardmaster was happy for a few extra hands, even if they were clumsy hands like Gojyo's. Gojyo knew he had no idea what to do with an apple tree, or even what apples were, but he figured he'd been a quick enough study for rice with Hakkai's help, so how hard could this be? He carried the barrel and Goku carried a ladder out into the fields, and Gojyo whistled as he got his first good look.

“This's an apple tree?” The sun wasn't bright, but Gojyo still shaded his eyes as he tipped his chin up to see the top. Goku chuckled as he propped the ladder onto one of the lower boughs.

“Never been in an apple orchard before, huh?”

“Nope.” Gojyo stood back, hands on his hips, as Goku scaled the ladder with natural ease and began to pluck the apples off the bough, twisting each stem and gathering the apples in his arms. Gojyo just stood back, feeling way too small. “Never seen trees this tall before.”

“You must not get out much. Hey, hold the barrel under, I'll drop 'em down if you catch 'em!”

“Don't get out much,” Gojyo repeated with a little chuckle. “Yeah, you have no idea.” He carried the barrel over to stand under Goku, and he handed the apples down to Gojyo one by one. Gojyo sniffed one when Goku wasn't looking, but Goku made a scolding noise.

“Don't eat 'em! We have to turn 'em in to show how many we gathered up so they pay us enough!”

“I wasn't gonna eat it!” Gojyo pointedly dropped the apple into the barrel. “I gotta let Hakkai cook it first!”

Goku snorted. “What, your teeth too soft?”

“What?” Gojyo cocked his head, and Goku leaned forward, eyebrow cocked quizzically.

“What, don't tell me you've never just taken a big ol' bite out of an apple?” Goku picked a few more and dropped them down. “The elder would bake them on the stones next to the hearth sometimes, but I just eat 'em.”

“Oh.” Gojyo looked one of the apples over as Goku continued to pluck them off. “Well, I guess you could, but Hakkai said he wanted 'em, so I wanna get him as many as possible.”

“Ooooo.” Goku snickered, and Gojyo turned to glare up at him, but before he could yell at him, he came up short at seeing Goku splayed out along the branch like a slug wrapped around a bit of seaweed, reaching for the apples at the end of it just beyond his grasp. “Hey, be careful!”

“I got it!” Goku managed to snatch one and pass it back to his other hand, then grabbed a few more and grinned with all his teeth, like a shark, down at Gojyo. “The forbidden fruit is the sweetest, y'know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gojyo crossed his arms and kicked the barrel a little closer to where Goku was hanging. “Anyway, what was that face all about? Quit with that 'ooooo' stuff.”

“Why? It's so obvious.” Goku grinned as he got the last apple and scaled back towards the bend of the bough. “You're like Hakkai's loyal puppy. He's lucky to have a friend as good as you, but I bet you wish you were a better friend.”

Gojyo leaned on the side of the barrel. “What makes you think that?”

“Because you're really obvious. You hang all over him, you act like you're useless without him, you basically worship the ground he walks on.” Goku chuckled, and Gojyo ground his teeth together a moment.

“That's crap, and you know it. Hakkai would'a said something if I was a nuisance.”

“Nah, you'd be surprised.” Goku was already scaling up to the next bough, and Gojyo whistled.

“You sure you're okay going up like that?”

“Yeah, I do it all the time.” Demonstrably, Goku clambered onto the higher bough and crawled down towards the apples. “Sen Sou says I'm just a monkey without enough hair.”

“Pff, sure.” Gojyo made a mental note to ask Hakkai what a monkey was later, but moved the barrel closer. “Yeah, speaking about that noisemaker, what were you just saying about forbidden fruit?” He smirked as he caught a hint of a blush cross Goku's face, and not from the effort of climbing the tree.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Yeah, guess you're right.” Gojyo shifted around as Goku dropped a few more apples down, stretching his arms out to grasp what he couldn't reach. “He looks pretty bitter to me, anyway.”

Goku made a sound like he was choking, and the next apple that fell hit Gojyo in the forehead. “Shut up! You just don't know how to look at him!”

“Asshole!” Gojyo nearly pitched the apple back at him, but thought better of it and put it in the barrel. “It's pretty hard to look at him when he's got tangled seaweed on his head, anyway!”

“It's bamboo, idiot! And you saw him! You know.” Goku swung down to the underside of the branch to glare at Gojyo, though he had a tiny smirk that told Gojyo he wasn't actually all that angry at him. “He's taken care of me, okay? I look up to him.”

“Well, you're short, so--” Gojyo's taunt was cut short by another apple to the head, and he bit his tongue hard. “Ow, damn it!” Gojyo grabbed up an apple and readied himself to throw it back, but Goku swung easily around to another branch, leaving Gojyo impressed.

“You better be watching how I do this, since you're gonna have to get up the tree next.”

Gojyo dropped the apple he was holding to gape. “Up the tree?” That sounded like the exact opposite of anything he'd ever done. “Man, Hakkai's lucky I'd do anything for him.”

Goku smirked. “Yeah, he sure is.” Gojyo heard him sigh, but he tucked his hands in his pockets and watched Goku crawl out along another branch.

“It ain't a crime to have a friend, is it?”

“Nothin' wrong with it at all.”

Goku cleared the tree of apples in all of fifteen minutes, then jumped down, scooped up the ladder, and loped along to the next one. Gojyo followed, thinking of Hakkai as he wrapped his fingers around the first rung of the ladder. The wood was rough on his fingers, and he tried hard not to grimace as his feet scraped up the rungs. The abrasion was hard on the sensitive skin of the soles of his feet and his palms, but he kept it on his mind: for Hakkai. Make Hakkai happy. The bark was smoother than it looked, but still scraped on him as he made his way onto the branch. He felt it bob under his weight – he was probably heavier than Goku, but Goku was already up a higher branch, scooping apples off the bough, not even watching him, so Goku was likely confident he was safe there. Kid had a good head on his shoulders. Gojyo figured he could trust that. Still, the bark scraped his legs and arms as he crawled out, but the apples were smooth in his palms. That felt good. He gathered each apple up, thinking about Hakkai's smile as he got to enjoy them.

“He'll like 'em,” he told himself, smiling. Goku, above him, chuckled.

“Yeah, get plenty.”

Gojyo's arms were scraped and bleeding, but he ignored them with a smile. He was slower going up and down the trees, and he had to clutch at the branches every time they shook under him. He could feel sweat dripping off of him as he worked, and felt his mouth start to go dry. He tolerated it, complaining under his breath but still handling it. He could do this for Hakkai. He'd done harder things.

Goku got a look at him and whistled as they broke to get water. “Sheesh, you're a mess! What's wrong with your skin?” He poked at one of Gojyo's scrapes, and Gojyo hissed.

“Watch it, that hurts!”

“Sorry! It's just weird!” Goku stuck his lip out a little, but bumped his shoulder against Gojyo's chest. “I got calluses pretty quick, but I guess you're not there yet. I never got all scratched up on the tree like that, though.”

“Hakkai says I got sensitive skin.” Gojyo turned his palms over. The skin had been perfectly smooth, but now it was mottled with messy scratches and scrapes. He shrugged it off. “Seems like I'm in the wrong place for that.”

“Yeah, seriously.” Goku pulled a face, but shuffled off for the barn.

Goku drank deep from the barrel when offered, but when Gojyo was offered the ladle, he tossed his jacket aside and poured the water over his head and hair first, then gulped a few filled ladles down. The water felt so good down his back and legs when it soaked into his pants and shirt. Goku hummed as Gojyo poured another ladle down his face and chest.

“You always do that. You're so weird, it's not even hot!”

“Nah, but I'm thirsty and dry.” Gojyo shook his hair out, feeling ease soak into his spine as the water in his hair drained down his back. He could feel his scales ripple a little under where they'd folded tight against his skin, and had to force his dorsal fin to stay folded. He didn't care for this “sweat” business, but damn did it feel good to soak down properly again.

Especially when he had a whole afternoon of more apple picking to do.

To do for Hakkai. Gojyo held tight to that. Hakkai did so much already, Gojyo had started to feel a little useless around him.

But damn, why did it all have to be so hard?

“You're leaking like a sieve,” Goku laughed at him at the end of the day, as Gojyo mopped the sweat from his brow and smeared his face dry, stumbling along towards the barn and letting Goku carry their overflowing barrel of apples.

“Damn.” He moaned a little, licking at the sweat on his upper lip. Hakkai had told him sweat was supposed to help him cool off, but he just felt unpleasant and sweaty, not to mention dry on the inside, like someone had started sucking all his blood out. “No wonder I'm so damn thirsty.”

He gulped down more water than he poured on himself that time, ignoring the dirty looks he got from the orchardmaster as Goku lined up the barrels they'd gathered to be counted. He didn't expect the humans to understand, he knew he was different. He was lucky enough Hakkai pretended to understand, or tried to understand. He was soaking and happy when Goku came to him with a bag of rice and two crates big enough to hold an octopus, though not sturdy enough and much heavier when Goku put one into his arms.

“There's Hakkai's bushel.” Goku grinned as Gojyo tested its weight. “He'll probably share 'em with you, too, and he probably won't even notice one missing if you want a snack for the walk home!” Goku chuckled as Gojyo pushed his sopping hair from his eyes with his free hand . “Though I guess your belly might be full after drinking half the barrel.”

“Nah, I was way thirsty. But these're for Hakkai.” Gojyo balanced the apple crate on one shoulder, smiling to himself to think of just how happy Hakkai would be to get something he'd wanted. Goku snickered.

“There's that dopey face again. Jeez, Hakkai's eyes must be worse than he says if he can't see--”

“Hey, don't you dare.” Gojyo put his hand on his hip with the other still bracing the crate, trying hard to look stern. “And what about you and your forbidden fruit, huh? You gonna share yours?”

“Yeah. I am.” Goku stuck his tongue out at Gojyo, then pivoted on his heel. “C'mon, I'll show you the way home.”

Gojyo turned to follow, but he let his smirk at Goku's cheek cover up the dopey look Goku had been laughing at. “Seriously, you wanna give me crap about liking Hakkai, but then there's you and ol' Genjo.” He kicked a little dust at Goku's heel as they walked, like he might slap sand at a fish that had been nipping at his fins. “You're not scared to go after the forbidden fruit, I saw ya!”

“You and your forbidden fruit.” Goku rolled his eyes a little, not breaking his stride. “There's stuff far out enough that even I know I can't reach. Sometimes, you just leave 'em sit and admire 'em from the ground, and hope the birds carry their seeds somewhere nice.”

“Really?” Gojyo kicked dirt at him again, and Goku turned and kicked a pebble back.

“Really.” Goku stopped in place, shifting his weight. “He's not the type to get attached. I've known him since I was little and I really admire him, but I know he doesn't wanna get held down or held back. I'm happy to take what I can get.” He turned to march on again, shrugging despite the weight on his shoulders. “Besides, you don't know, but nobody's gotten married around here for years.”

“Married?” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head. “I dunno about that.” He made a mental note to ask Hakkai what that meant, since he had heard Hakkai say something like that before as if he was supposed to know what that meant, but they way both Hakkai and Goku said it made it sound important. “Why not, anyway?”

Goku sputtered a second, then mumbled, “Lots of reasons. The guys who are supposed to be out flirting are all too tired from working to chase girls, or maybe it's 'cause all the girls are working too.” He bit his lip. “Some of 'em are getting night work in the merchant city, or going away and sending money back, and guys don't want girls who do that. Then again, some of the guys have to get night work, too.”

“Night work?”

Goku nodded. “The elder said that was the, um, decent way to say it. It's stuff folks do in the dark.”

“In the dark,” Gojyo repeated again, and got what he meant. Even in the deep, it was fine to make eyes where anyone could see, but even merfolk didn't get down to business in the clear. Too much risk. “I mean, folks do what they have to.”

“Yeah, but older folks think it's indecent, and they don't want their kids hitching up with someone they don't approve of.” Goku scrunched his nose. “Me, I'm not into that sort of business, but I know that even if I were, and even if people were getting married, and if Sen Sou liked me at all, there'd be at least a few funny looks if I got friendly with a monk. They might not wanna give me work.” He huffed a little, giving Gojyo a rueful look. “At least you're a stranger. If you settled down with Hakkai, folks might actually think he was landing on the ground again, and maybe they wouldn't be as judge-y of him for just wanting some sort of company.”

Gojyo actually stopped in place at that, confused. “Wait, what do you mean by 'landing on the ground?'”

Goku, too, stopped and faced him. “You haven't noticed, have ya? I guess since you didn't know him before, you can't tell.” He scuffed his feet on the ground, face working as he thought. “Someone ought'a tell you. I just dunno if it should be me...”

Gojyo waited, feeling pricks and pins in his chest sharper than the pebbles that dug into the soles of his feet. Before Goku picked up his train of thought, there was a hail from down the road.

"Hey there, Red!" Goku visibly tensed at that voice, as Gojyo frowned and turned. A skinny, gangly guy with fair hair trimmed close and eyebrows nearly shaved clear off was coming towards them, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other holding a hand-rolled cigarette in wrinkled paper, which he waved in Gojyo's direction. "Been seein' you 'round, been meaning to chat with ya.”

“Gojyo,” Goku whispered, “he's bad news.”

Gojyo cocked his head, ready to ask Goku to explain, but the guy was there and grinning like a crooked moon reflected in choppy waters. “Ain't often we see new faces 'round here. I'm Banri.” He extended his empty hand, but as Gojyo curiously tried to match him, he slapped it. “What do they call you?”

“Gojyo, Gojyo's fine.” Gojyo shook his own hand off, Banri's slap stinging the sensitive, abraded skin, but the way Banri grinned made him grin too. “What can I do ya for?”

“I told ya, I don't see new faces too much.” Banri tucked his hand back in his pocket and popped his cigarette in his mouth. There was something bright in his eyes, like a sunflare on an empty shell, when he caught Gojyo's eye again. “I was hopin' we could chat, no kids around.” He clicked his tongue in Goku's direction, who scowled. “Tell ya what, I got an extra coin or two, I'll buy you a drink, give you a little advice.”

Gojyo felt a tiny spark of excitement. “A drink, huh?”

“I wouldn't,” Goku muttered, and Gojyo glanced back at him, thinking as he considered Goku's pout and Banri's offer. He knew he didn't know as much about the world up here, so a little advice couldn't hurt, right? Besides that, Goku had just been saying that someone should tell him something, but Goku wasn't sure he could. Goku seemed to know Banri, maybe Banri knew Hakkai too, and maybe he could tell him. Plus, that drink sounded nice.

“Gojyo, c'mon.”

“Nah, you know?” Gojyo shrugged the bushel off his shoulder into his hands. “I'm pretty thirsty. Would you mind takin' this to Hakkai for me?” He held the basket out to Goku, who pulled his lips thin and taut but accepted Gojyo's basket into his free arm.

“It's your choice. You best hope you get home before Hakkai does.” He gave Banri a suspicious glower, but turned and passed the pair of them. Banri sniffed hard and hocked spit at Goku's heel as he passed, then spun back around and slung an arm around Gojyo's shoulder as he walked forward.

“Gojyo, huh? Where'd you come from, man?” He talked like he'd known Gojyo forever, even as Gojyo looked back at Goku one more time, already working through how he might be able to work this Banri guy into telling him what he needed to know.

He just hoped whatever game this Banri guy might be playing had rules he could pick up on fast enough.

* * *

The market had a certain spirit during a warm fall day, a brightness, a cheer that was hard to match elsewhere. Hakkai tried to revel in it as he passed through the morning market streets, past the vendors and buskers, towards the stalls where the traders took business. His seed money was heavy in his pocket, and he would be happy to be rid of that weight and laden with the promise of pigs. All he had to do was negotiate the price, and he could join the flow of happiness that coasted through the sunny streets.

Hakkai was familiar with the canopies and tents, each one clearly emblazoned with some image of their preferred trade. Eggs and milk, vegetables, fruits, rice and wheat, and of course, livestock. Hakkai's mother had always traded with a certain band of traders, and he'd held to it so far. He didn't recognize the man sitting at the stall, shaded from the pre-noon sun by a banner emblazoned with the face of a hog, but he knew the man would know him by name and reputation, if nothing else.

That was no reason to forget his manners. He bowed at the waist, low, as he stood on the other side of the trader's table, forehead nearly touching the battered surface. The trader, who sat reclined on a few lumpy pillows stacked up on a rickety chair, who smelled faintly of straw and ammonia and with muscled arms tattooed with old scars, sipped something from a leather pouch at his waist as Hakkai straightened his back. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

The trader shrugged. “I'm always willing to talk shop, Mr. Cho.” He motioned to the bench on the other side of the table, wooden and worn, with a distinct groove worn in it from the many who'd done business here before. Hakkai wondered how many had risen from this bench and taken their first few steps towards success from it. He wondered how many had staggered towards failure. Still, he seated himself and folded his hands, trying to project confidence as the trader flipped through a stack of papers crumpling at his side before yanking one out. “I was told you'd be coming buy. Interested in buying pigs, are you?”

“I am, yes.” Hakkai squeezed his hands together against the table, hoping the nervous little fidget was subtle enough that the trader wouldn't notice. “Due to falling on hard times of late, I was forced to sell every last one of my family's pigs, but upon a stroke of good fortune, I would like to begin again fresh.”

“Oh, were you moving, then?” The trader raised an eyebrow, looking at Hakkai directly for the first time. Hakkai felt something sting in him, and shook his head.

“The land I have is perfectly good. I simply have no pigs to put on it.” He donned his best, wittiest smile, but the trader merely reclined, obviously unimpressed.

“You can't make a fresh start out of rot.” He clicked his tongue. “Gotta say, I'm having trouble figuring your angle here. First off, it's autumn now. By the time you place your order and we take it and come back around, it'll be near winter. You had to give up your last herd--”

The teacher in Hakkai had to say something: “'Drove' is the proper term for a group of p--”

“-- because you fell on hard times, but you want to start over again in the lean season?” The trader drummed his fingers on his knee, his stare piercing through any meager counterpoint Hakkai might have had for that. He was an educated man, and the trader raised a valid point. Hakkai swallowed.

“I could postpone the order until spring, then. I can survive the winter.”

“That doesn't fix the other problem.” The trader shook his head. “You might have the funds to survive this winter, maybe even a little after that, but buddy? You're only delaying the inevitable.” Hakkai's heart sank into his stomach, as the trader threw his hands out. “It's plain facts. Anyone who listens to the goings-on in this region knows that the Lady Koushu's sucking you all dry like a _jiangshi_ , and your puny little village is going to break first.” The trader put his hand flat on the table. “You look like a smart man, you know how this is going to go. Nobody getting married, nobody having babies, old folks sick and getting sicker with no money for medicine, young folks vanishing to other places? Even if you're getting on, if everyone around you is fading away, your town is gonna die.” The trader crossed his arms, and Hakkai's hands slid to his lap, squeezing tight enough that his knuckles hurt. “The lady up on the hill is crushing you, and--” he lowered his voice to a rough whisper: “Folks think she's doing it on purpose.”

“Yes, I know.” Hakkai couldn't deny it, chin dropping to his chest.

“And what, you think she'll just look the other way and let you build yourself up?” The trader sneered. “If she's heard a whisper you got money in your pocket, she'll be going for it. Even if you get your _drove_ of pigs and get yourself going, she'll see you building your little sandcastle of a pig farm and rise up like a wave and crush you under her pretty silk heel.” The trader leaned over the table. “I'd take your money if I wouldn't be throwing pigs away. The animals don't deserve to be sent somewhere they're gonna get swallowed up by that shadow.”

“I just want to try to live again.” Hakkai shook his head, barely able to look at the trader but still so intimately aware of him, the stench of animal and alcohol reeking off of him this close.

“You aren't dead, Cho. You're alive so far, and you seem like the smart kind.” The trader snapped his fingers and gestured to him. “Well-spoken. Smart face. Hell, you're good-looking, to boot. If you got money for pigs, you got money to pick yourself up and get out while the getting's good.” He gestured to the road. “Don't you want something more than this? You can get it, but you aren't gonna get it here. Pick up and make tracks for sunlight.”

“I can't.” Hakkai shook his head again, a pang striking his heart. “I simply can't leave.”

“And I can't help you.” The trader reclined again and gave a dismissive wave. Hakkai, knowing there was nothing more to be said, rose, his shoulders hunched, his face low. As he turned to depart the tented canopy for the market street, he heard the trader mutter, “Guess you aren't nearly as smart as you look.”

Hakkai turned about, smiling. “Looks can be deceiving; but then, based on the looks of you, you don't know everything either. Forgive me if my family chooses to ply our trade elsewhere from this point forward with someone who does not presume to know more than me about my own business.” Without waiting for the trader to spit another word, Hakkai pivoted right back around and walked away, shoulders back and face sternly forward in a set smile as stiff as a formal bow.

He felt it all wobbling like the bottom of a tower in a tremor, let his shoulders drop, let his smile sink away as he tried to lose himself in the hustle and bustle of the market, wishing he could just be absorbed into the ground. Humiliation to chase his last humiliation in front of those traders, he shouldn't have been surprised. He was merely fortunate the trader chose not to bring more of the traders in to mock him or strung him along.

He could survive this, he knew, but what was he to do now? He would likely encounter the same refusal to sell him pigs at this time of year from other traders, even if they were willing to ignore Koushu putting pressure on the town. They were right, he knew it, and he'd been trying to forget how close of a call the previous tribute had been, and that the next one might be even worse.

“Kanan,” he found himself saying, brushing his hair from his eyes then threading his fingers through and against his scalp, then squeezing. “What am I to do?”

He knew she wouldn't answer, and yet, a voice somewhere in his memory did: _“Promise me you'll do something nice for yourself! Something that'll make you happy!”_ Gojyo smiling as he walked away. He wished he had brought Gojyo, had he known he would be so sorely disappointed. He could have brought a smile with him.

When he lifted his head again, he did see something that might make him happy: a stack of books on the shelves of a book trader. The seed money was still heavy in his pocket, and Hakkai didn't want it anymore.

* * *

Books were heavier than money, by a great deal. “Perhaps I am an idiot,” Hakkai mused with a wry smile to himself as he walked back down the road with a load of books strapped to his back in a square of canvas he'd purchased from another stall and stitched into a makeshift satchel. He didn't care how his shoulders and eyes ached. He'd sat in the market with his books, quietly poring over the texts until daylight began to fade.

It had been quiet, but he had been impossibly happy buying all those books, and happier still at the promise of reading them. He'd kept his promise to Gojyo, even if he hadn't accomplished what he'd set out to do and his problems still hung over him like a swollen raincloud. He would be happy to go home, unload his burden, and settle in with Gojyo while he reconsidered his options again.

When he reached the point where the road diverted towards the sea, however, he spotted Goku coming up the path. Goku caught sight of him at the same time, and hurried up towards him. “Those look awful heavy! You need a hand?”

Hakkai smiled sheepishly. “I wouldn't object.” He worked a few books off of the top of the satchel and nearly handed them to Goku before Goku took the satchel right off of his arm. “Oh, my--”

“It's the least I can do.” Goku made a face somewhere between his usual friendly smile and a grimace, leaving Hakkai puzzled both by that too-obvious expression and the unfortunate implications in what he'd said.

“Ah, did something happen?” Hakkai carried the books he'd pulled out and followed Goku as he shuffled carefully down the path again, but nearly stumbled as the thought hit him: “Is Gojyo alright?”

“Mm, for now.” Goku scrunched his nose up. “Some tough-looking guy who I think works for Koushu wanted to talk to him, and offered to get him a drink. Gojyo said he was thirsty, so he went with him.”

Hakkai dropped all of the books as his hand flew to his mouth. “One of Koushu's people?”

Goku had jumped when the books hit the ground but now gaped at Hakkai, wide-eyed. “Yeah – is that really bad?”

“I don't know how bad it is.” Hakkai quickly scooped the books up, hands shaking. “But I don't want to find out.” He shook it off, trying to compose himself. “Let's hurry and put these away and track them down. Gojyo's, er, naive about how things work around here and I'd rather that friendly mouth of his not talk him into trouble.”

Goku winced, but picked up the pace down the path. “I tried to stop him, I should'a dragged him off, but I figured he's a grown-up, he's a man, he can decide stuff...”

That was the trouble, Hakkai wanted to say, Gojyo wasn't a _man_ , not in the truest sense. He had probably never encountered alcohol, he likely had no idea what that man had meant when he'd offered Gojyo a 'drink.' He shouldn't have left Gojyo alone, shouldn't have let him out of his sight.

Neither Goku nor Gojyo could have known just how great the risk was, albeit for very different reasons.

“Let's go find him, yeah?” Goku patted Hakkai's arm and gave him a reassuring grin, and Hakkai wished he could return it. Instead, he dropped his books just inside the door and turned back for town.

“The sooner, the better.” He needed, desperately, to see Gojyo now, to ensure his decision to let him walk away wasn't the one that meant he wouldn't see Gojyo anymore.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next were originally one, but I decided to split them up when this one got unusually long. Sorry, guys, I hate to overwhelm you!


	11. … Like a Fish In a Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo's strange new friend is giving him a drink (or a few), as Gojyo tries to learn his game to get information. If only he knew the rules...

**11: … Like a Fish In a Desert**

Banri was weirdly friendly, made of smiles and salty-sweet words, laughing and joking with Gojyo the whole way into town. However, Gojyo could also tell he was that weird kind of friendly that some of the women he'd encountered in the deep were, the kind who told you what they thought you wanted to hear until they got around to telling you what they wanted from you. He had a good idea of how this game worked, he just hadn't seen how humans played it yet. Never a better time than the present to learn, so Gojyo thought, smirking wryly to himself and pretending it was at one of Banri's jokes (something about melons? Gojyo had seen melons fall into the water off of boats and had tried to eat one, but never got the appeal).

“Jeez, it's gettin' cold fast, ain't it?” When Banri wasn't smoking a cigarette, he kept both hands tucked deep in his side pockets and his shoulders hunched over, ducking through the dim lights from the few lit windows that lined the street. “Don't know whereabouts you came from, but the winter down at the ocean is a nasty fucking hag. All wind and bitter fucking cold, and not even a layer of snow to keep it pretty.” Banri spat against the wind off the road. “They got snow where you come from?”

“I've seen it.” Gojyo recalled watching the white flakes melt against the surface of the water when he came closer to the light. “I ain't never cared for it, though. Me and the cold don't get along, no matter how pretty it is.”

“I dunno, I'm the kinda guy who'll put up with a lot if it's pretty, ya know what I mean? At least for a little while!” Banri cackled and jabbed his elbow into Gojyo's ribs a few times, and Gojyo did laugh that time.

“Damn right, man.” He stood back as Banri swung towards the door to a well-lit building, one with a sign over the door indicating a bottle. Gojyo knew that meant 'drinks,' since he'd seen people carrying bottles and drinking out of them sometimes, but the scent of the room hit him like the chum bucket off a fishing boat, heavy and thick. Not bad, though. Kind of like the chum, but a different kind of 'not bad.' There was something familiar about the heavy smell, though Gojyo couldn't quite place it, and he found himself inhaling deep as Banri led him to a low table near the back of the room.

“Sit, sit,” he urged him, nudging him towards one of the cushions while waving at one of the girls circling the room, a pretty girl with a skein of brown hair in a low ponytail and an apron tied around her waist. She smoothed her apron as she approached, though Gojyo spotted her giving Banri a ready, wary look. Banri just grinned at her in a slinky, sleazy way. “Hey there, doll, ain't you a picture?”

“The same image as always,” she replied, and Gojyo felt her gaze hit him briefly, before returning her attention to Banri, coy and pleasant but distant. “What can I get for you?”

“A bottle of rice wine, warm and toasty, two cups.” He slid a hand down her back, and Gojyo saw her subtly tense as he ran it down her back, over her hip. “Just keep 'em coming, my friend here says he's thirsty.”

“Got it.” The girl glanced to Gojyo, and Gojyo could feel the same suspicion she harbored for Banri spreading to him now, so he shrugged his shoulders with ease. Smile and the world smiles with you, right?

“Thanks, miss. Take good care of me, it's my first time coming to a place like this.” He winked, and he saw a crack of a genuine smile as she broke away from Banri with a twist of her shoulders and hips.

“You got it, sir.” She winked back at him, then walked away with a little more swing in her walk. Banri chuckled, not even bothering to hide that he was ogling her. Banri clearly got away with a lot. Gojyo would have thought someone like him might have gotten attitude for being so brazen, but clearly there was something else up. He figured he could ride Banri's wave a little before trying to feel the current for himself.

“Sir, she says,” Banri chuckled as he lowered himself to a sloppy sit in the cushion, groaning a little as he bent his knees. “She calls me sir, but I can tell she don't mean it like she does for you.”

“It's 'cause she don't know me yet.” Gojyo chuckled a little, absently flicking some of his hair from his eyes. “She knows you, she doesn't have to be as nice to ya.”

“Is that how you think it is?” Banri's eyes gleamed in the firelight, glossy and almost yellow for a second. Gojyo sensed a frisson of danger out of him, but shrugged it off with an easy smirk. Banri seemed like a jerk who puffed his chest up and tried too hard, but Gojyo could admit to himself he liked the balls on the guy.

“Well, hey, I'm new in town, I don't know much better.” The serving girl arrived right about then with a bottle and two clay-fired cups, which she set down between them in a neat line before hurrying away. Gojyo noticed her preemptively fixing her skirt, as if Banri had already tried to tug it, like Gojyo got the feeling he might have done regularly. However, Banri instead promptly scooped up the bottle and poured, filling Gojyo's cup to the brim.

“Welcome to Chengdu, then. Cheers!” Banri lifted his cup, and Gojyo followed suit. Banri touched his cup to Gojyo's, splashing some of the clear, strong-smelling liquid onto his hand. It was the same heady smell that filled the rest of the room, and Gojyo instinctively licked the wet trail on his fingers before he saw Banri toss the entire cup back in one swig. His tongue felt oddly warm from just the taste, but if he was going at Banri's pace, he was going to keep up.

He tipped the cup to his lips and poured the contents down his throat. The scent roared through his mouth, flavor without flavor, but instead water like fire. It burned, yet without the heat that had hurt his hand when he'd put it in Hakkai's pot. That burning! That buzz of sensation! It crashed through him like a hard wave, then receded with a pleasant sort of numbness. The taste wasn't much to speak of -- familiar, but neither really good or bad -- but the feeling was indescribable. Gojyo liked it. He liked this 'drink.' He held his cup out with a coy grin. "Good stuff. Can I get a refill?"

"Of course, of course." Banri refilled his cup from the bottle, fingers steady on the neck and his motions fast, practiced, and enthusiastic. "My treat tonight, for the visitor. What brings you to this backwater little shithole, anyway?"

"Backwater? I dunno about that." Gojyo chuckled and took his cup, sipping a little more slowly so he could make that fun little burn last. "But, uh." He evaded Banri's intent stare in favor of the bottom of the cup for a moment. "I was passing through, got into a little trouble, made a friend, and since I wasn't goin' anywhere in particular, decided to stay on a little while."

"Uh-huh?" Banri raised a thin eyebrow, but he didn't sound like he thought he was lying. Not completely, anyway. “Where'd you come from?”

“Another nameless little place, south of here.” Gojyo motioned vaguely, towards the shore, towards the road. Not quite lying, that was usually the best approach. Give them just enough of the truth, and yet Gojyo knew the stakes here were a little higher than just a few sea grapes. He had to play it close and keep his claws in until it was really time to pounce. Banri, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes a little, but nodded.

“Seems like there's a lot of nameless nowheres around here. At least this one has good sake, right?” Gojyo's cup wasn't empty, but Banri refilled it anyway. Gojyo was okay with that; Banri was flattering him, buttering him up, though Gojyo wasn't sure what for. He didn't think he had much he could actually give, unless Banri was just looking for pleasant company, but the way he was ogling the serving girl again told him Gojyo wasn't the kind he was looking for. Good thing Banri wasn't at all Gojyo's type either. Instead, he smiled at the serving girl when she flashed a harsh look towards Banri, and she seemed to soften a little. Yeah, Gojyo preferred that pretty and soft thing. It gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling in his gut. Banri tapped the table. “But you decided to stay around here, huh? Why the hell would you do that? Even the market up the road would be better.”

Gojyo shrugged a little, taking another sip. “I said, y'know? I made a friend.”

“That Hakkai guy, right? With the green eyes like a foreigner, and the pig farm without any pigs on it?” Banri laughed through his nose and took a slow sip of his drink. “He's not the kinda guy you wanna be friends with, trust me.”

That caught Gojyo's attention. “Why not? He's nice.”

“Sure, _nice_ , but nice is surface deep.” Banri swirled his cup in his hand, reclining a little and tossing his head around as he spoke. “You might think you're seeing something from the surface, but the second you stick your hand in a little deeper, you don't know what you're gonna get. You're better off not going too deep with a guy who's just nice on the surface.” Banri took another swig, and Gojyo subconsciously followed suit, not entirely surprised to find the bottom of his cup again. Banri refilled his cup, then his own. “Plus, you don't know him like we do. Everyone knows everyone around here, even if they've never talked, but you're new around here. He's not someone anyone should get involved with.”

“What's that mean?” Gojyo leaned in, but Banri cackled a little and touched his cup to Gojyo's again.

“Come on, why you wanna get on all this serious stuff? We're supposed to be having fun, come on, drink, drink!”

Gojyo hummed, but drank a little more of the fire liquid. Funny, he wasn't feeling any less thirsty.

The bottle was soon empty, and Banri ordered another, telling the serving girl to “keep them coming,” then got out a set of dominoes. “Let's play a few rounds. No stakes, just fun.” Gojyo snorted to himself.

“You might need to show me the local rules. I dunno if we play the same way.”

Banri's smirk slid into place easily. “Not a bad idea. How far did you say you came from?”

“I got no way of knowing,” Gojyo chuckled, shaking his head. His skull felt kind of full, like a half-empty barrel sloshing around in a tempest, but his tongue was still dry. Banri kept filling his cup, so he kept drinking.

Gojyo thought he was getting the rules of the game at first, but it got harder and harder the more times Gojyo emptied and Banri filled his cup, the more empty bottles lined up along the side of the table. However, as they talked and joked and laughed, Gojyo found the rules a little harder to remember, and he was also losing a lot more. Also, the dots on the dominoes seemed to be moving on their own, and Gojyo didn't think dominoes knew how to move their scales to make the illusion their eyes were somewhere else. Or knew how to move, at all. “M'not so good at this game,” he found himself laughing as Banri shuffled the dominoes again.

“Seems like you're forgetting the rules as fast as I can teach 'em to ya. All in good fun, though, right?” Banri lifted his cup, and Gojyo had to search for his, groping over the table as the cup seemed to be just a little further – no, a little to the right – no, a little to the... other direction... there, in hand, touch it to Banri's, and the drink was all over his hand again. He chuckled and licked it off – it was too good to waste.

“Lotsa fun, yeah.” Gojyo emptied his cup into his mouth. “You're a lotta fun, man, Banri, man, lotta fun.” His mouth was moving, but even he wasn't totally sure what he was saying.

“Ah, I'm a riot. Just ask the girls.” Banri chuckled easily, tipping a finger off the end of his nose. “You seem like a fun guy yourself. You can really hold your liquor; I didn't think it'd eat this much of my paycheck to loosen you up.” Gojyo hummed and giggled stupidly, because Banri was sure saying a lot of words that just didn't make sense when Gojyo put them together. Banri just clicked his tongue and started to drum his fingers on the table. “Gotta say, that's what makes me wonder why you're lingering on that Hakkai. What do you do with that fuddy-duddy?”

Gojyo wrinkled his nose; Banri was okay, but he didn't like how Banri talked about Hakkai. “Work,” he mumbled. “He's showin' me how to do all the farm stuff, and he makes dinner and it's tasty, and we sit around and play mah jongg and talk and it's nice.”

“Really? Hah, that sounds boring to a guy like you.”

“S'not.” Gojyo mouthed at the rim of his cup, tasting iron and sweat on his own lips. “I like bein' around Hakkai. Ain't had a home like that, so it's funny, but I like it a lot.”

“Hm.” Banri was studying Gojyo carefully now. “Sure it ain't his money? Guy sure flaunts what he's got.”

Gojyo might have been feeling funny and spacey, like he was floating over the seafloor and couldn't ground himself, but he was grounded enough to get wary when someone started talking about Hakkai's money. “He doesn't spend it on much. I don't think he cares about it, he just needs it.”

“You sure might care, huh?” Banri leered, smirking, and Gojyo shrugged and emptied his cup again, dropping it down under the table. “I mean, who doesn't need money? And there he is, suddenly loaded with it. Funny how you showed up right then, too. You got awful lucky.” Banri drummed his fingers on the table. “Wonder where he gets it.”

“Th' money? Mmm.” Gojyo made a face. He hated money talk, and he hated Hakkai's-money talk even more. “He sold stuff. He said he needed it, so he sold... stuff. Good stuff.” He licked his lips, completely missing how Banri tented his fingers on the table and leaned in.

“What sorta stuff?”

Gojyo might not have been able to feel his feet on the floor, but he knew there were things he just couldn't say. Don't talk about the pearls. Don't say pearls. Don't say where they came from. “Unno. S'treasure, he says. I help him, maybe that's why it looks so funny. I wanna help him, though. He saved m'life.”

"Really?" Banri cocked an eyebrow, leaning in. "You're helping him out, huh? Maybe he's the one keeping you around?"

"I'd like it if he did," Gojyo mumbled. Damn, he was tired and things were starting to ache. "But he don't want it. Says it's bad. Says it won't work forever, and he can't make me, but he's not making me. I wanna. I wanna help." Don't say pearls, don't talk about pearls, all he could do was talk about helping Hakkai. "Don't care if it hurts. Just wanna help him."

Banri was standing now, his shadow dark over Gojyo's form like a flock of gulls circling a floating carcass. "Hurts ya, huh? Work your fingers to the bone diggin'? Where's he got you workin', big guy?" Gojyo managed to look up, wondering when Banri's smile stopped pretending to be friendly. There was a part of him that was realizing he was losing whatever game they were playing, and it wasn't dominoes anymore. However, there was a bigger part of him that just felt like he'd been hit over the head an instant ago, caught in a whirlpool of that almost-pleasant dizzy sensation of headspin that usually lasted just a split second before the pain kicked in.

“Can't say. Don't know.” Gojyo shook his head a few times. “I just... I just help...”

“Is it that you don't know the town?” Banri bent over Gojyo and lifted him by his hair, smirking down into his face. Gojyo flinched when Banri touched his hair, but he couldn't react; he could only smell the heady scent, the thick waft off of the drink, but despite the distant panic somewhere in his brain, he could only smile stupidly back as Banri tugged him up. “Welcome to Chengdu, buddy. Why don't we step outside and you start walking the right direct--”

“Sir?” The serving girl appeared at their table side, and Banri dropped Gojyo to lay his lazy smirk all over her. “I was going to offer you a fresh bottle, but your friend looks a little sick.” She knelt down beside Gojyo and touched his face. “Want me to get you outside for a little fresh air?”

Banri sneered and stood back. “I think my friend here doesn't know how to hold his liquor. Don't you worry, I'll handle him.”

“No, no, I insist.” The serving girl looked straight into Gojyo's eyes, and Gojyo knew a friendly smile when he saw one. “Do you think a little fresh air might help you feel better?”

“M... Maybe. Maybe some water?” Gojyo winced as she helped him, and a few other cues his body had been giving him filtered through. “Actually, I'm dying for a piss.”

The serving girl helped Gojyo up to his feet and got her arm around his shoulder. Gojyo could feel Banri watching her carry him out, like a gull circling a drowning sailor or the head of a dolphin hunting pod on the prowl. Gojyo knew that maybe none of Banri's smiles had been all that friendly, even as the serving girl leaned towards his ear.

“You have to watch out for him; he's like a cat toying with a mouse when he takes someone new drinking.” She shook her head, the stray strands of her hair tickling his nose. “Always waiting for a chance to get his claws in, dig in whatever he's trying to get out of you. You had no idea what you were getting into, huh?”

“Thought I did,” he mumbled, unable to help it, and starting to feel his contentment wick out as the unpleasantness began to sink in past the funny, numbing feeling. He started to feel like he might hit the ground any second, but he couldn't do anything about it. “He just knew the game better here...”

* * *

Hakkai's lungs ached from running to town from his home, and the cold air seared him with every inhale. The wind had gotten bitterly cold as the sky had gone dark. Goku was a few steps ahead, head wheeling left and right as he looked around. Hakkai didn't know which bars were still open anymore, which lanterns were lit by store owners and which were lit by squatters. Hakkai could hear Goku stopping everyone they passed by, asking if they'd seen "the strange guy with the bright red hair," but the few people they met on the road this late in the evening all shook their heads. One even told Goku to "mind your own business," which made Hakkai's lungs feel hot for a different reason.

Gojyo was his business. He was his friend, he'd meant to be protecting him, Gojyo didn't know enough about the world to be out alone in it...

Then, as they passed through the market street again, there was a beam of light from an open door, and a familiar, lanky figure staggering into it, a familiar cascade of long hair down his shoulders that flashed red even in the black of night. Goku saw it the same time as Hakkai, and didn't even have to shout his name before Hakkai took off running towards him. Sure enough, Gojyo was stumbling from an open door, supported on the shoulder of a girl in an apron. Hakkai's heart nearly ceased right then and there, momentum the only thing carrying him forward, but when he got close, Gojyo lifted his head and smiled right at him. Relief only made him run a little faster, and he hardly noticed himself stopping when he reached Gojyo's side. “Oh, Gojyo, you had me worried!”

“Hey, H'kai!” Gojyo grinned with all his teeth, lopsided and sloppy, and he staggered a little towards Hakkai. The girl eased her off his shoulder and towards him, and Gojyo stumbled right into Hakkai's chest, still grinning like a fool. He tried to hold himself upright, but could only do so by bracing himself on Hakkai's shoulders. “Hey, hey, I got your apples! I got you the whole bush! Goku said he'd take it, did you see it?”

“I've been too busy looking for you.” Hakkai touched Gojyo's face a few times, but when he went to push his hair from his eyes, he noticed Gojyo's face twitch with pain and settled for cupping his chin. His face was hot, and his breath reeked of alcohol – Hakkai didn't have to be an apothecary to know his ailment. “You're drunk.”

“What's drunk?” Gojyo seemed entirely unfazed by Hakkai's worry, still grinning. “But man, am I glad you came! There was this guy, and he won the games.” He tried to gesture back, but the moment he did, he staggered forward. Goku ducked in to catch him under one arm, and Hakkai got under his other shoulder to support him.

“Talking nonsense,” he murmured, both because it was true and for both Goku and the serving girl's ears. He caught and held her eye. “I owe you dearly for looking out for my friend, Miss--”

“Shunrei, sir.” She bowed a little, then shook her head. “And it's nothing, really, if we let our customers drink themselves to death, we'll be lacking in customers.” She managed a half-hearted smile as she stepped back, and Gojyo sagged onto Hakkai's shoulder.

“She's a nice lady, H'kai. Can I come back and visit?” He was smiling into Hakkai's shoulder, and Hakkai wished he could empathize and smile back, but he couldn't.

“Let's just get you home first. You're absolutely ruined.” He slid a hand up Gojyo's back to brace him, as Goku groaned.

“He smells like a brewery!” He grimaced with disgust and gave Gojyo's shoulder a hard shove, which Gojyo tried to return with a palm to the chest that only seemed to accomplish pushing at the air about six inches in front of Goku. Shunrei sighed.

“He's lucky to be upright. He was drinking as if it were water and he was parched, like he didn't think it would get him drunk.”

This got Gojyo's attention again. “Y'all keep sayin' that word, but I drunk the drink and I don't know what else drunk is!”

Hakkai bit the words off: “It's poison, Gojyo. You were effectively drinking poison, and now you are suffering from being poisoned. Fortunately, it's the kind of poisoning a human can recover from given time.”

That caught Gojyo up, and he stilled against Hakkai. “That's not it, then.”

Hakkai wanted to be angrier, but now he was just grateful Gojyo was alive. He bowed his head to Shunrei. “Thank you again; I'll make it up to you, if I can.”

“You don't have to.” She shook her head, stepping back towards the bar's door as Hakkai and Goku wheeled Gojyo about, with Goku bearing his weight with a somber little sigh.

“I'm sorry again, Hakkai. I had no idea just how much of an idiot this guy could be. How does someone get this drunk without even knowing it?”

Hakkai kept his face forward, mouth set in a bleak line. “I can't even imagine. What I have to wonder is what would possess him to go off with a stranger.”

Gojyo muffled a groan into his collar. “He said he'd tell me. I thought if I won the game, he'd tell me.” He kicked a little towards Goku, leaning harder on him. “Y'said you didn't think y'could, so maybe that guy would...”

Hakkai raised an eyebrow towards Goku. “What does he mean?”

Goku was staring straight ahead now, shoulders back as he helped bear Gojyo forward. “I got no idea. Let's just get him somewhere safe.”

As they carried Gojyo on towards safety, neither of them saw the shadow of Banri creep up behind Shunrei in the door, nor did they see him grab her arm in a decidedly less friendly manner. “You took away my conversation partner, pretty thing.” He squeezed tight, and she flinched, unable to move, eyes wide in panic. “How's about you come and talk to me instead?”

* * *

The road home was long with an armload of books, and longer with Gojyo sloppily wobbling forward and lolling all over him, but Hakkai resolutely marched on with Goku on the other side. The ocean was in sight now. It was a journey he could manage. Hakkai knew the weight could be much heavier, it could be more than he could bear. This, he could bear, if only because Gojyo, in whatever state he was in, was still with him.

But he was in a state if there ever was one.

“Damn it!” Goku grunted with frustration as Gojyo staggered into him again, and Gojyo laughed stupidly.

“Sorry, man, feet are hard.” Gojyo chuckled roughly, and Goku rolled his eyes.

“I hate when folks get drunk.”

“I told you,” Gojyo drawled, “m'noooot. Whatever that is, I'm not.”

“It's what alcohol does to people, Gojyo,” Hakkai said near a whisper. Gojyo shook his head.

“Y'said it was poison, H'kai. I don't get poison. I can't.” Gojyo shook his head hard, making the rest of his body wobble and forcing Goku and Hakkai to stop and steady him again. “Can't poison me.”

“Gojyo--” Hakkai started to explain again, then sighed. He was out of breath enough from carrying him, he wasn't going to waste breath explaining. “Gojyo, I assure you, poison is an oversimplification but you just need to sleep it off.”

“Nooo, you don't get it.” Gojyo whined and tried to dig his heels in. “I can't, it's not a thing, okay?”

“Gojyo--”

“If it's poison, throw me in the water.” Gojyo flopped the hand that was over Goku's shoulder.

Hakkai inhaled sharply, dizzying in an instant. “No.”

“Hey, that's a good idea.” Goku leaned around to Hakkai. “The shock of the cold'll make him puke!” He started to divert towards the beach, but Hakkai tried to dig his heels in.

“Goku, he might drown in this condition.” Unlikely, but what definitely would happen was even worse. He didn't know how Goku would react to Gojyo slipping back into his natural form. Goku shook his head again.

“We're both with him, and even if he can't, we both know how to swim.” Goku grinned with all his teeth, evincing his everyday confidence despite their miserable situation. “I won't let you down, or him.”

Goku couldn't have known what he was promising. However, Hakkai knew Goku to be trustworthy. “I suppose it's worth a try.” His acquiescence was irrelevant; Goku was the stronger between them, and he was already leading the way down the shore with Gojyo on his shoulder.

The water was black this late in the night, lit only by the slivers of moonlight that pushed their way through the patches of cloud, and cold through the holes in Hakkai's shoes. Gojyo peeled himself off of Hakkai and Goku, and staggered a step towards the water. Hakkai still instinctively grabbed at the back of his jacket.

“You'll sleep it off, it'll be alright. You don't have to do this.”

Gojyo just groaned, then yanked his arms loose of his jacket with a whip of his hands. “It's fine, it's fine, it's okay. I dunno, I'm startin' to feel bad, so maybe it's a poison I can't do.” He slid his shirt up his chest and over his head, smearing his face with his hands, then wobbled towards the water, sliding his pants off as he did and toeing out of them. Hakkai wanted to pull him back again as he teetered on the waterline, but Goku just scoffed.

“Go on, it was your idea!” And with that, he gave Gojyo a good shove, and Gojyo toppled forward and into the surf.

“Goku!” Hakkai moved to catch Gojyo, but Gojyo was already in, and he slid into the deep with ease. One turn of his body, one press of his legs, and he changed, his naked form scaled in an instant, his tail glimmering in the light. Goku's jaw fell open wide as Gojyo emerged from the water, gills and fins flaring, the faint scales around the scars on his cheeks gleaming white for an instant as they caught the moon in their shine and gold as Gojyo settled into his form with a sigh. Goku seized and frantically tugged Hakkai's sleeve as if it were a tow line, but Hakkai, resigned, shook his head.

“Did it help?” He called, and watched as Gojyo eased back down into the water, then paddled slowly through the shallows and up close to the shore again.

“Mm, yeah.” He lifted his face to meet Hakkai's hard stare with a weary smile. “But I think sleep's gonna help, too.” And with that, he collapsed face-first onto the edge of the surf, snoring in an instant. Hakkai heaved another sigh, as Goku kept tugging his sleeve.

“Did that just happen? Is this really happening?” He motioned jerkily towards Gojyo, as if he weren't still lying there with his tail splayed behind him and paddling unconsciously through the water.

“I'll explain, as much as I can.” Hakkai trudged towards Gojyo and took his limp arms up towards his chest. “I owe you that much and more. Can you please help me bear this load just a little longer?” He tried to lift Gojyo on his own, but Goku was at his side again in an instant.

“Whatever you need. What are friends for, right?” Goku's smile was uneasy now, matching the queasiness in Hakkai's gut. Curse his eyes, the last thing he needed was more complication. He hoped that gentle, simple Goku could make this as painless as possible, as he stepped even deeper into the whirlpool of turmoil that seemed to be closing in around him. Perhaps Goku could be a lifeline, a rescue of some sort. Perhaps trusting him could give him some relief, like a dying man offered a drink in the desert.

However, Hakkai also knew just how dangerous that sip might be, if it were anything like Gojyo's foul friend had poured down his throat.

 


	12. Belief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai has to explain his situation to Goku, but will Goku believe him when he hardly believes it himself?

**12: Belief**

Gojyo was limp and pliant, too much like a dead eel for Hakkai's liking, but he was at least easy to carry between him and Goku even if he was dead weight. Hakkai pushed the lid off the barrel with his elbow. "I don't think I can make him change back when he's unconscious, though I haven't tried. He's said he's alright sleeping in here, though."

"In fresh water? Aren't, y'know, mermaids..." Goku trailed off, tipping his nose between Gojyo's flaccid form and the ocean. Hakkai sighed and shrugged.

"I can only repeat what he's told me, and he says he likes sleeping in the barrel."

Goku shrugged too, and they hoisted Gojyo up in tandem and slipped him into the barrel, tail first. Goku smeared his hands off on his trousers, then stared pensively into the dark core of the barrel where Gojyo curled up at rest. Hakkai could only imagine what was passing behind those inscrutable, ever-bright eyes, what he was thinking, what he could possibly think about all this. After a pregnant silence, Goku finally spoke again. "Hakkai?"

"Yes?"

Goku whipped around and put his hands on his hips. "We _drink_ out of that barrel!”

Something about Goku's genuinely horrified expression against the absurdity of the situation broke a wellspring in Hakkai, and all he could do was laugh so hard he doubled over at the waist, even as Goku stomped his feet and whined in protest, “It's not funny, damn it! Why didn't'cha warn me we were drinking Gojyo soup?!"

“Goodness!” Hakkai choked out between hard laughs. “I boil our tea well, I promise!” He coughed a few times as he ran out of breath, holding a hand up. “Quiet, please,” he wheezed, before forcing himself to quiet and calm. “I don't want to be heard from the road.”

“Ah!” Goku quickly shoved both hands over his mouth, nodding furiously and mumbling through his fingers, “Let's go inside, inside.”

Hakkai's house was dim, but he quickly put the lanterns on and set the pot to boil water for tea. Goku waited and watched, fidgeting and shifting his weight, as Hakkai went through the mundane tasks of coming home for the evening and used the mindless activity to think through what he was going to say to Goku. He thought about offering Goku some rice, but it was too late for dinner, and though his stomach was empty of food, it felt overfilled with anxiety. Besides, food would have turned to ash in his mouth with his secrets burning the tip of his tongue. He poured tea out into bowls for himself and Goku, who still stood in the doorway, then motioned to the table. “Please sit. We're having a civil conversation, after all.”

“Oh! Right!” Goku hurried to sit, but Hakkai could still see him bouncing nervously on his knees. Hakkai sat, forcing his knees to be still, and inhaled.

“I said I would explain. I will.” Hakkai laced his fingers flat on the table and fixed his gaze on the interlock of his knuckles. He couldn't force himself to meet Goku's keen focus, his eyes aching already. “I said I found Gojyo tangled in a fishnet. I did.”

 

“Yeah.” Goku nodded hard. “I believe that.”

“However, he crawled onto the shore of his own accord.” Hakkai sucked his lower lip in for a moment. “He says he lives in the cay past the shore and likes my lagoon, but when he saw me upset, he came closer to check on me, but got tangled in the net and rolled onto the beach, where I found him. He hid his true form from me at first, until I caught him sleeping in the rainbarrel.”

“Ohh.” Goku nodded again. “That makes sense. Why did he hide it?”

“Why would anyone hide such a thing? Perhaps he didn't know what I'd think of him, or perhaps I might... do something unsavory.” Hakkai finally managed to meet Goku's gaze. “You know the myths about merfolk.”

“Yeah. But... you think he'd know you wouldn't do that, if he'd been watchin' ya.” Goku shook his head.

“I suppose not.” Hakkai glanced away, nervously running his fingers through his hair and pushing it from his eyes. “But whatever his reason, he's chosen to stay with me.”

"Whatever reason, huh?" Goku was obviously trying to sound innocent, even as he leaned into his hand and planted his elbow on the table, lifting his eyebrows in a curious expression Hakkai couldn't quite translate.

"Yes." Hakkai couldn't quite look at Goku, even as he cocked his head and wagged his eyebrow again, but instead lifted his hands. "It's not as if I offer him anything special; perhaps it's the novelty of it, or a change of pace. After all, he's never tried hot food or tea, and I don't know how far he'd ever been from water before he met me."

"Oh." Now Goku sounded disappointed, and Hakkai had to wonder yet again what he could possibly be thinking. "So..."

"And..." Hakkai halted again, hesitating, but he knew Goku deserved the truth: "Gojyo is the source of the pearls. He finds them for me." He hesitated again, deciding Goku didn't need all of the truth: "He left me the first few as a present the night before I found him, then began to leave them in piles for me until I found out he was merfolk. He does it voluntarily, I would never ask it of him, but he said he wanted to help me, in what ways he could." Hakkai paused, as Goku, brow furrowed up, continued to listen. No questions, no doubt. Hakkai wished it were so simple for him. “It's helpful, if nothing else. I've never known the luxury of buying books, or...” He trailed off, then swallowed. “I'll enjoy it for as long as it can last.”

Goku jerked with surprise. “What do you mean?”

“It can't last, can it?” Hakkai ran his hand down his face and over his chin, letting his gaze wander out the window to the distant ocean, the moon where it hung, lazy and crooked over the stark horizon line and the endless blue. “He's not meant to stay on land for long. You've likely seen him dampening himself down.”

Goku gasped. “Wait, so that's what he's doing?!”

“His skin dries.” Hakkai shook his head a little. “He says the cold bothers him too, I don't know if he'll be able to stay on the surface when winter comes.”

“You think he's gonna leave, huh?” Goku's hand slid over his mouth again, and Hakkai felt something twist in his gut.

“It seems the logical conclusion. And from there, who knows? He has nothing to bind him here, he travels on the current and goes wherever is best for him. I wouldn't hold him back from living his life as he pleases.” Hakkai managed a fond smile as he imagined Gojyo swimming, his lithe body graceful as he slid through the depths, out past that moon as crooked and bright as his smile. “Until then, I'll enjoy his company. I think, for whatever reason, he enjoys mine.”

“For whatever reason, huh?” Goku sounded distinctly disappointed that time, shaking his head. “Man...”

“But that's the truth, Goku, plain and simple.” Hakkai composed himself, drew his back straight, and faced him. “I apologize for deceiving you, for not telling you sooner.”

“You're good.” Goku shrugged, and it was Hakkai's turn to be surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I get it.” Goku chuckled a little. “I completely get why you might not have told me everything immediately. I might've thought you'd finally cracked for good if you started goin' on about mermaids!”

“Yes.” Hakkai smiled wearily, relieved. “It does sound somewhat insane, without context, without seeing him as he is.” He slid a hand towards Goku. “And you must understand why I'll ask you to please, please preserve his secret.”

“Absolutely.” Goku grabbed Hakkai's hand. “I won't tell anyone. Who knows what the folks in this town would do if they knew there was a mermaid hanging around?”

“I think 'merman' is more accurate.” Hakkai felt Goku squeeze his hand a little before letting go.

“Well, whatever.” Goku grinned. “And...” The grin drooped. “Maybe you should talk to him, about him maybe leaving. Find out what he says about it. You might be surprised.”

“Ah.” Hakkai felt something drop into the pit of his stomach, heavy and a little painful. “Perhaps. Er, I must thank you again for tonight, but I'm afraid I'm rather tired.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Goku quickly drained his still-full teacup in one long gulp and jumped to his feet. “Um, thank you for trusting me.”

Hakkai, almost out of habit, stood and bowed. “Thank you, in return, for hearing me out and for not thinking poorly of me.”

Hakkai watched Goku travel up the road, until he reached the crest of the path that led towards town from the beach path, until he waved once against the night sky then pivoted and ran. Hakkai watched his shadow vanish, then turned and closed his door, musing aloud, “ _Finally_ cracked, he says. I must wonder what he means...”

There was a splash at the kitchen window, and Hakkai saw a hand against the paper. He slid the window open and found Gojyo poking his head out of the barrel and flailing ineffectually at the sill. “H... hey...” He spat a little water over the sill, coughing a little, and poked his face in. “Hey.”

Hakkai realized this was a greeting; as bleary as his eyes were, as slack his expression, he was still looking right at him. Hakkai exhaled through his nose and approached him, then touched his forehead. “You feel feverish. You really should get some sleep.”

“Mm, yeah.” Gojyo slumped into Hakkai's palm, his damp forehead smearing into his skin. “Haven't seen ya all day, though.” Hakkai felt his lips curve into a contented smile on his wrist. “How'd the market go? When're the pigs coming?”

Hakkai felt that same pang in his gut all over again, and gently extended his fingers to push Gojyo's face back. “It didn't go. There won't be any.”

“Huh?” Gojyo blinked the wet from his eyes a few times, as Hakkai forced himself to hold his gaze. “But... You got the money.”

“They refused to sell to me.” Hakkai pushed himself back off the ball of his foot and let his gaze sink away. “Go back to sleep. I'm going to sleep once I've had some tea.”

“But...” Gojyo's tongue was sloppy, tangled on his teeth, but his words came out plain and neat: “What are you gonna do now?”

“I'm going to sleep,” Hakkai repeated, knowing it wasn't an answer, not to the question Gojyo had asked, not at all. “I ask that you do the same. I did say, you will want to sleep the alcohol off.”

“Mmn.” Gojyo sunk a little under the sill, nose just touching the paper. “M'sorry.” Hakkai sighed as he sank away, back into the barrel, even as he heard Gojyo mumble a few more apologies as he went under. Hakkai, too, sank, knees buckling, and he let his head fall into his hands on the table.

He couldn't answer Gojyo because he didn't have an answer. At least he had Goku believing in him, because he wasn't sure he could believe in himself in this moment.

* * *

 

Sleep never came, so waking was almost a non-event. Hakkai was only truly startled to awareness from the morning routine by a clatter behind him, and he jumped around to see Gojyo pouring a small pile of pearls onto the table.

“Sorry about last night.” He tossed his head back with a shadow of his roguish smile. “I, uh, don't remember much, except being kind of...” He motioned with his hand as he searched for the right word, but Hakkai was a dictionary of adjectives even without gathering his thoughts.

“Sloppy.” Hakkai turned back to his knife and the green onion he was preparing for the congee on the counter, his crooked cuts and uneven chunks of white and green. He didn't quite remember beginning to cut it up, and yet here it was. He finished it in a hurry, faintly hearing Gojyo shuffling from foot to foot behind him as he waited for Hakkai to say something else. Hakkai realized he had left something unsaid: “It's alright. Apology accepted. You had no way of knowing what would happen when you did what humans call 'go drinking.'”

“Yeah.” Gojyo sounded relieved, and Hakkai scraped the onions into the pot and gave it a good stir (finding that the bottom was burned on from neglect, curse his eyes!), then spared Gojyo a glance. He was still smiling, but he was more than a little wan. “And, uh, I know you don't like the pearls so much, but, well...” He trailed off, letting his eyes trace down the streak of sunlight on the wall opposite the window. “I wanted to make it up to ya somehow. I don't remember much, but I know ya took care of me.”

“I did what I could.” Hakkai hesitated, his hand stilling on the spoon. Then, he caught Gojyo's gaze. “You, er, asked Goku and I to put you in the ocean. Goku obliged.”

“Oh – ohh, shit!” Gojyo barked out a laugh, slapping his forehead. “Shit, he did? What'd he think?”

“He handled it well.” Hakkai smiled wryly and gave the pot another good stir (hoping that the burned-on bits would dissolve into the rest for a smoky flavor, or at least that Gojyo wouldn't notice). “Yes, er, you did change in front of him, so he couldn't deny it had happened. I explained, and he was most accepting.”

“Well, that's good, at least.” Gojyo slicked the tangles of his hair from his eyes, shaking his head and shuffling in closer to Hakkai. “He's a good kid – he helped you out with me?”

“You were extraordinarily intoxicated, and you're a touch heavier than I can handle by myself.” That seemed to take the cheer out of Gojyo again, making him slouch just a little. Around his keen attention to the pot, Hakkai could see little streaks of brown on the floor where Gojyo shuffled his feet back and forth, shifting his weight. “You were fortunate that the serving girl saw you'd been overserved. Whoever invited you out clearly didn't have your best interests at heart. You must be more careful; whoever that was, he may have been intending to make you senseless so that he could take any valuables you had.”

“He'd'a been disappointed. It's not like I keep stuff you humans like on me and handy.” Gojyo shrugged through his dismay. He hesitated, then motioned to something past Hakkai. “Uh, reminds me. The apples, did ya like 'em?”

Hakkai looked in the direction Gojyo had gestured to see, for the first time, the basket of apples. He felt a swell of guilt in his breast, and faced Gojyo. “They are lovely, thank you. I haven't had a chance to try one, though.”

“Oh.” Gojyo slumped again, and Hakkai shook his head.

“Gojyo, really--”

“I don't remember much of last night, but... the pigs.” Gojyo tucked his hands in his pockets. “You were way down. You're way better to be around when you're happy. I know the pearls don't make ya happy, not like the pigs would, but it'll at least help, won't it?”

Hakkai sighed, then pulled the congee off of the fire. “It will, Gojyo. The money will get me through winter, if nothing else. I'm simply not certain how I'll manage after.”

Gojyo nodded, muttered an, “I know,” then turned towards the door. Hakkai found himself chasing the first step after him.

“Gojyo?” Gojyo turned back, eyebrow raised, and Hakkai hesitated. He wasn't certain why he was asking this of Gojyo, but in a way, perhaps Gojyo's perspective would help him recenter his own. “If... if you thought you had no choices in something, no other options, but to continue down a bad path, what would you do?”

Gojyo twisted his face in a way that obviously read of puzzlement, the line of his mouth shifting to and fro. “Bad path, huh?” He rubbed his chin against his palm. “I dunno. For me, I just go with the flow until I find a better current.” Then, he cocked his head. “Is it really all that bad?”

“I'm not sure.” Hakkai shook his head. “But I suppose not being sure really is the trouble.”

“Huh.” Gojyo's chin dropped, and he threw his hands up. “I dunno what to tell ya. I wish I did.” He turned, head sinking again. “I'm gonna wash my face and hands and stuff.” He smacked his lips for a moment. “And wash my tongue. My mouth feels all dry and gritty.”

“That'll be the alcohol.” Hakkai found himself smiling wryly again. “I'll get you a second cup of tea for when you've drank the first. You'll want it.” Gojyo called back a languid 'thank you' as he loped out, and Hakkai returned his attention to the congee pot.

It was perhaps fortunate that today was the day he'd ruined it. He wasn't certain he'd taste it. Too much else was on his mind for his tongue to do a thing.

* * *

Though the porridge was as tasteless as Hakkai had expected, the apples were as delicious as they looked. Hakkai chewed his down to the core, discreetly spitting out the seeds, as Gojyo tore through two, stem and all. Hakkai didn't even mind Gojyo tossing his cores into the gutter of the road as they walked along. “After all,” Hakkai reasoned, “I don't like to leave trash, but the birds can have the rest of the meat, and they'll deposit the seeds safely elsewhere to begin a new orchard.”

“Is that so?” Gojyo chuckled, languid, low, and contented, hands tucked deep in his pockets as he strolled along. “Well, I'll do my part planting orchards, if you'll let me. In fact, I was thinking of heading back to the orchard if'n you don't mind. Me an' Goku had fun.” He paused, then looked at Hakkai directly, “I'll come right home this time.” He pulled a face, sticking his tongue out. “That drinking stuff is fun for a while, but the end of it isn't so much fun.”

“My father complained of hangovers when he drank, too.” Hakkai couldn't help another bitter little smile and sigh at Gojyo's unfortunate learning experience, until he remembered that Gojyo had left him wondering about something: “It's the after-effect of essentially poisoning oneself. Which does remind me, you said you couldn't be poisoned?”

“Oh, did I tell ya that last night?” Gojyo turned back around, eyes sparking as he seemed to remember. “Ahh, you said that was poison I was drinking, but that other guy was drinking it and knew what it was.”

“Alcohol is a bit different.” Hakkai bit his lower lip for a moment, thinking less-than-fondly on his own experiences with the stuff, and then, more neutrally, on the text of grandfather's philosophy and medicine tomes. “Humans drink it intentionally to relax themselves, to forget their problems and worries, at least for a while, but it does so by dulling the senses and weakening parts of the brain and liver. The alcohol goes into the bloodstream and slowly shuts down the body.”

“Blood and liver, huh? Yeah, no.” Gojyo proudly thumped his own gut. “It's like I said, it ain't easy to poison me. Someone told me that merfolk blood was different from humans, livers, too. Super-tough, like, way stronger.” He grinned, his teeth looking sharp like they did when he fully changed. “Same person who told me that told me that if a human boat sets up in your bay and you want 'em gone, slip a chunk of _fugu_ into their water barrel. For us, that's just a lost snack, but those boats get real quiet, real quick.”

Hakkai felt a chill, but Gojyo shrugged and let his sinister smirk slip into his usual smile. “Now, we ain't totally immune, like, we eat too much of something that's got poison in it, it might make us a little ill, so I guess that's what this alcohol did.”

“It's my understanding you consumed a significant quantity, yes.” Hakkai managed to maintain a twist in his lips, despite his continued worries. “The young lady who escorted you out was surprised you were conscious, let alone not dead.”

“But humans can drink, huh?” Gojyo wagged an eyebrow. “Maybe you can take me drinking sometimes.”

“I don't care for alcohol.” Hakkai promptly broke eye contact. “It's...” For a moment, he thought again on the last – really, the first and only – time he'd drank alcohol, then pushed it from his mind. “It always made my father unpleasant.”

“Huh.” Gojyo shrugged a little, gaze flicking away. “Well, maybe if the two of us are doin' it together, it'll be, uh, more pleasant? I dunno, I do a lot of stuff that doesn't sound fun, but it's good when it's with you.”

“Do you think so?” Hakkai felt his heart flutter a little, inexplicably, as Gojyo nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, you make stuff nice. Plus, you never make go out of your way to me feel dumb for not knowing stuff about your world. I guess I'm still getting my land legs.” He grinned sheepishly, then pivoted towards the path to the orchards. “So, that's why I wanna go with Goku today. Tonight, I'm gonna bring ya apples, and I'm gonna make you happy like you make me happy!”

Hakkai felt his heart twinge in his breast again, like a bird caged there trying to break loose. He wondered briefly if he should let Gojyo go, but then decided -- reminded himself, really – it would be worthwhile to get used to the sight of his back now. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you tonight, then. I'll come to the orchard if I'm ahead, but otherwise --" He caught Gojyo's collar to tap his shoulder, and pointed at a distinctive tree with crooked branches. "Will you meet me there?"

Gojyo looked at the tree for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, if you're not there or don't come to get me, I'll wait for ya. I'll make Goku take me if I gotta. See ya tonight, with lots more apples!" He began to jog off, but turned and yelled back: "And hey! Cheer up!" He grinned, pinching his own cheeks. "Things ain't really so bad, are they? You're gonna be alright!"

Hakkai let himself smile and call back, “Do you think so?”

“You're doin' better than me, as far as I can tell!” Gojyo laughed, grinning brightly again. “Just look on the bright side!” He turned about and jogged off again, and Hakkai could already hear him yelling for Goku down the road. He instead turned for the rice paddies, alone again.

In a way, he was on as unsteady ground as Gojyo was, even if those pleasant moments they shared helped him to forget. Like the numbing effect of alcohol, Hakkai mused, except Gojyo was cure and disease both. If only he could see whatever it was Gojyo did that let him believe in him, when he found it harder and harder to believe in what little there was left of him.

 


	13. Travelers on the Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An afternoon on the road and a night spent in what seems like good company sends our heroes down divergent paths...

**13: Travelers on the Path**

Gojyo could see Goku giving him occasional sideways looks as they worked. He also cringed at the end of the day when he saw how the tree bark had scratched and rubbed Gojyo's skin raw.

“Sensitive skin, huh?” He asked under his breath as they waited in the line to get paid. “Hakkai said...” He swallowed, and Gojyo, not trusting whatever answer he gave not to be too suspicious, shook his head.

“Ain't nothin', kid.” He put on a grin, then looked at his own hands. The bruises were deeper than yesterday, layered over the old ones in a gradient of browns and purples. Hakkai hadn't noticed, but Gojyo hadn't really wanted him to. He'd tried not to draw attention to it. He was embarrassed enough as it was that Hakkai had carried him home. Not cool at all. He instead gave Goku a jostle. “Them trees were comin' for me, yeah?”

Goku half-smiled, a little sideways. “Yeah.” Then, he seemed to force himself to clam up. Gojyo figured he didn't trust himself to say much more either.

When they reached the road towards the outskirts of the village, after they broke away from the other workers, Gojyo heard Goku take a deep, deep breath like he was trying to pop his own lungs. "Uh, hey, so..." Gojyo tilted his gaze towards him, to find Goku staring at him like Gojyo might a lionfish lurking near his nest. "Um, I found out. About... um. You."

"Yeah." Gojyo nodded curtly. "Hakkai said I kinda showed you when I was, uh, kinda fucked up."

"Yeah, basically." Goku swallowed hard and forced himself to look away from Gojyo. Gojyo grimaced, feeling about as uncomfortable as a grub speared on a fishhook looked. After a tense silence, Goku piped up again, "So, uh..."

"Listen, kid, I--"

Goku suddenly seized his arm. "Is it true?" Gojyo startled, only to see Goku grinning at him as wide as he could. "Is it all true?" Gojyo gawked, then grinned back.

"Of course it is. Didn't I show you my scales and shit?"

"Well, yeah, but the stories!" Goku tugged his arm emphatically. "Are they true? Is it real?" Gojyo just laughed, harder than he ever thought he would at this.

"Like I know what you all think about us! All I know is I don't wanna be in your nets!"

"Seriously!!" Goku bounded around him. "I've never even heard of a guy mermaid! Are you the only dude mermaid?"

"Hell no! There's other mermen, there's just not a lot." Gojyo tossed his hair back, grinning with all his teeth. "I ain't that special."

"Ooh, do all the lady mermaids fight over ya?" Goku nudged his elbow into Gojyo's ribs. "Not that you care, right!"

"Hah, mermaids don't need me, though I try an' make 'em think they do." Gojyo dusted his shoulders, laughing, then pushed his hair back. "Nah, it's tough to explain, y'know? They're different."

"Pfft, then just tell me!" Goku bounced on his heels, circling Gojyo in his excitement. "What about the singing? Do you really sing to try and get sailors to come closer?" Goku cackled, then caterwauled, "Ooh, come a little bit closer! I just wanna drown you!"

Gojyo laughed again, throat aching and raspy from it. "No, come on! I mean, I guess I could sing if I wanted, but it ain't magic, and most of the time, we rather you humans stay away from us!"

"Aw, we're not so bad, are we?" Goku crossed his arms. "I mean, you've been living with us a couple weeks, you know what we're like."

"You're all fucking weird, is what you are." Gojyo flicked Goku's ear, making him yelp, then swing back. Gojyo dodged but twisted it around to sling his arm around Goku's back. "Nah, but none of you knew what I was. I didn't know what'd happen if you knew."

"Like I care what you are! You're a good guy, and Hakkai's friend!" Goku beamed at him, then tugged his arm again. "Hey, what about other stuff? Is it true you got magic tears and blood and--"

"Ah, pardon me?" Gojyo and Goku both jumped at a soft-spoken woman's voice interrupting them, and Goku clapped both hands over his mouth. Gojyo stopped in place and cocked his head, as the woman with the skein of brown hair over her shoulder and a loaded laundry basket waited on the path in front of them. Gojyo frowned as he took her face in.

"Oh, Shunrei, isn't it?" He set his hands in his pockets and gave her a wink. "I never forget a pretty face."

“I remember you, too.” Shunrei smiled, eyelashes fluttering just a little, and Gojyo chuckled to himself.

“I was kinda, uh, memorable, I guess. Uh, sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“It happens; one can lose count of one's good spirits.” Shunrei shrugged, shoulders stiff at her ears for a moment, before she folded her hands at her waist again. “I'm glad you crossed my path here, I'd hoped to speak with you properly.” Gojyo saw her fidget, fingers twisting against one another, and smirked to himself.

“Ah, is that so? I'd love to, but--” He said it firmly, because he could already see Goku giving him the side-eye. “I promised my friend I'd come straight home tonight, no stopping. So, maybe some other time, eh?”

“Oh.” Shunrei's hands dropped a little, along with her gaze and timbre. Gojyo did hate to disappoint, but he'd already disappointed Hakkai once. Instead, he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Next time, right?” He winked, then pulled his hand back and circled around her, waving for Goku to follow. “See ya, sweetie. Goku, keep up!” Goku smiled quickly at Shunrei as he went past, waving a little then rejoining Gojyo. Shunrei turned to watch them go, then looked over her shoulder past the roadside to watch Gojyo's back vanish out of the corner of her eye.

Gojyo wasn't paying attention to her. He could see the crooked tree in the distance, and smiled to himself to think of meeting Hakkai there. Maybe a good day would lift his spirits a little. Hakkai deserved that, if nothing else.

* * *

A good day's work was satisfying, and Hakkai admitted to enjoying the exertion a little. He tossed the rice he'd been paid in from hand to hand as he walked, already anticipating making a nice little feast for himself and Gojyo with the vegetables in his cold storage pit, and whatever was in the traps. It would be nice to have a normal evening, even after such a dismal yesterday, so Hakkai thought.

And then there was a too-familiar squeal from the roadside.

“Good morrow, Pig Farmer Cho!” Sen Sou was raspy, as if dried beans were rattling in his throat, and Hakkai hardly had to turn and face him to know he was seated, legs folded, under a tree, and pointing his bamboo flute at him, before loudly enunciating, “I see you bear the fruits of your daily labor! I ask of you, have you given the gods their--”

Hakkai had already decided what to do if accosted, and set about it: “I have much to share, if you'll come with me and share a grain of patience and conversation while I prepare the evening meal.”

Sen Sou hurried to his feet, shoving dust from his robes as he did and muttering in a more natural timbre, “You could let me finish a sentence.”

Hakkai smiled knowingly as Sen Sou hustled a step ahead of him. “Not when I already knew what you were going to say.”

Sen Sou eventually adjusted his pace to only walk a step ahead of Hakkai, as Hakkai charted his path towards the crooked tree on the horizon. Hakkai could already see a small silhouette against the sunset, swinging from the branches, and a longer line nearer the tree's trunk, smooth against the bends of the branches. “It seems my home will be full tonight.” Sen Sou seemed to see what Hakkai was observing, and scoffed.

“I suppose a beggar can't ask for a quiet meal.”

“I, for one, have had more quiet meals than I can count, so I can't complain about the alternative. Even plain rice tastes better when someone is sharing it with you.” Hakkai let the quiet sit a moment, until he heard a distinctive gurgle from Sen Sou's stomach and realized how different Sen Sou's perspective might be. “Though, I suppose for you, any meal, quiet or no, would be welcome. When is the last you ate?”

Sen Sou's mouth tightened under his helmet as if wound like a music box. “When is the last you fed me?”

Hakkai kept his mouth closed and his chin low as they walked the rest of the way to the tree together. Goku was hanging from the tree as Gojyo leaned against it, Goku talking and chattering away:

“... peaches as big as your head, man, I swear! It seems like everything was better before!”

“Yeah,” Gojyo chuckled lazily, and Hakkai noticed him rolling his shoulders back with his spine braced to the tree – he must have been sore. “Well,” Gojyo went on, catching Hakkai's ear, “I dunno how bad things are now. I mean, you got what you need, right?”

“Sure, but sometimes, you just want more, right?” Goku flipped up onto the branch, twisting his neck around to look down at Gojyo. “Like, sure, peaches might still grow, but they don't get as big, and sometimes you just want a lot of peach, so then you have to get two, but then you get scolded for taking more than you're supposed to. Maybe it's nostalgia, too.” He rubbed his chin, legs swinging from the branch. “You just want what you had before, if you lost it.”

“Mm.” Gojyo tilted his head side to side a little, rolling that in his head. “I guess I can see why you might feel like that. Sometimes, I miss stuff I used to have, too, but where I come from, when stuff's gone, it's in the current and it's an awful big ocean out there.” Hakkai had heard him clearly at that point, but Gojyo only now seemed to notice he was there, acknowledging him with a knowing smile. “Yo, good to see ya.”

“Seems like the whole crew's here!” Goku jumped down from the tree, beaming at Sen Sou. “Were you goin' with Hakkai? Can I come too?”

“It had been my intention to invite you, yes,” Hakkai answered before Sen Sou could open his mouth (and likely spill out an insult that Goku would ignore anyway), and he clapped his hands together. “Why don't we all go enjoy a lovely meal together?”

The other three chattered and squabbled all the way back to Hakkai's little hut, Sen Sou and Gojyo sniping and making snide remarks, Goku tempering Sen Sou to retorts and sarcastic snaps (obviously in jest, even to Hakkai's ear), and Gojyo and Goku laughing and roughhousing together like brothers. Hakkai was content to be beside them, in the radiance of their contentment. It was just as cozy when they arrived, when Goku and Gojyo helped him bring in the traps, as Sen Sou willingly took up a knife to help behead and trim the mackerel that had waited for them with the shrimp that Gojyo and Goku could behead with a twist of their hands, just as content as they continued to squabble while Hakkai stirred the pot. Hakkai enjoyed the quiet, but now that his home was filled with noise, he found that same sense of nostalgia swelling through him. He didn't miss the quiet as much as he enjoyed the noise and the company. Distributing four bowls and sitting down with the others felt more like coming home than opening his door had before Gojyo had come.

“Cheers.” He lifted his tea bowl. “It's good to have friends.”

“To friends,” Gojyo concurred smoothly, lifting his tea bowl in imitation of Hakkai, and Goku eagerly toasted his tea to Gojyo's, and Sen Sou, with a mumbled complaint, did the same, and all four of them drank as if indulging in the finest liquors Hakkai had ever read of.

Dinner was highlighted by chatter and banter, Hakkai laughing along and retorting where he could; no real insults exchanged or even substantive debate, but it was nice to laugh. It was when Goku got up to collect the bowls and chopsticks that Gojyo let out a sigh, let his gaze roll over to where Hakkai lounged with his palms on the floor behind him and a laugh still echoing on his lips, and slowly shook his head.

“This is nice.” Hakkai made an agreeable noise, and Gojyo sat forward a little. “You think we can keep doing stuff like this, just relaxing and all, even if there aren't any more pigs?”

There was a clatter as Goku missed a step and jostled all the bowls in his hands. “Wait, what about the pigs?” He spun around to face Hakkai, as Hakkai felt Sen Sou's glower land on his face like a ray of fierce sunlight hot enough to burn, and his heart sank. Goku blinked a few times, leaning towards Hakkai. “You said you were gonna get more pigs, right? I thought you went to the market yesterday – what happened?”

Hakkai sat forward, already feeling a curious ache in his bones and chest as Goku stared at him, slackjawed. “I... I spoke with the trader.” He let his face fall, not sure he could look at Goku when he was already crestfallen. “He refused to sell to me.”

Sen Sou scoffed and crossed his arms. “Of course.”

“He seemed convinced I had no chance of success in this town.” Hakkai slumped forward. “So, I'll have to think of some other option.”

“Sheesh, that's the worst.” Goku pulled a face and sat back down near Hakkai, and Gojyo leaned back, observing languidly as Sen Sou, shoving his helmet on over his shaggy hair, groused under his breath.

“I could have told you that.”

"Have you thought of anything?" Gojyo asked, his focus keenly following Hakkai's hands as he fidgeted with his fingertips.

"I suppose I might try another trader in the spring, and survive off of what fortunes I have for the time being." Hakkai watched the interplay of his fingers rather than the lantern light dancing off of Gojyo's long eyelashes or the vindictive gleam in Sen Sou's glare. "Or another trade. Perhaps chickens. It would be lovely to have a coop rather than a paddock, and fresh eggs whenever I so pleased--"

"And rotten ideas." Sen Sou spit towards the fire. "You're holding yourself back and you know it." Goku shrank back, and Hakkai forced his spine straight. Gojyo, however, sat forward, and Hakkai could see too much of his teeth already.

"Hey, don't be an asshole, he just fed you."

"I'm returning the favor." Sen Sou shot Gojyo a poisonous look, but before Gojyo could say a word to counter it, he returned the withering force of his glare to Hakkai. "All I have to offer is simple common sense, but I'll share it in spades: you are stagnating."

"Hey," Goku tried, but Sen Sou plowed right on, his words all but stabbing at Hakkai like a spade through dirt:

"You have money. You have resources you couldn't have imagined before, and while I don't know where you keep getting it or why your source hasn't dried, but you could leave this stagnant puddle of wastewater you call a hometown and go anywhere, purchase land, and start new. You could go to academy in Beijing--"

"Goodness," Hakkai interjected, face hot but keeping his cool as best he could with a breezy smile, "Don't you think I'm a bit old for school?"

“Yes,” Sen Sou retorted with fire on his tongue, back arching, fists clenched over his knees, “Men your age are meant to be marrying and starting families, and that's gone well for you, hasn't it?”

Gojyo slammed his palms on the table. “That's enough, you fuckin'--”

“Even if I were interested in marriage!” Hakkai halted, throat closing for a moment, before he forced himself to cough and breathe so he could go on, “Even if I were to invest my time in school, I don't think I have enough money to pay my way through academy.”

“Yet you've had no trouble finding more and funding everyone else's trip through futility.” Sen Sou's lip curled like a rabid dog snarling. “You somehow find a deep source of money--” Hakkai caught Sen Sou's eyes flashing towards Gojyo for a split second as Gojyo turned his gaze away and lowered his chin, before piercing through him again, a needle through the veil-- “And you don't put it to use to achieve something you would have leapt at not two years ago?!”

“My desires have changed,” Hakkai demurred, and Sen Sou threw his hands up and slammed them back down on the table.

“And now you refuse to change a step further? You honestly think the path you're on is worth the dirt under your feet? You're making excuses to stagnate!” He leaned over towards Hakkai, and Hakkai felt the hair on the back of his neck raise, felt him pierce deeper. “Do you know what I call something that doesn't change? Dead.” Hakkai's shoulders raised as Sen Sou's glare narrowed to slits. “And at least the dead have the courtesy to decay.”

Gojyo was on his feet and about to vault the table, but Goku was up too and hooking Sen Sou's elbow in one hand, but despite Goku's over-bright smile, his grip was vise-tight. “Wow, you know, this has been a lot of fun but I think we're leaving right now, Sen Sou, I am super tired and we are leaving and we are going right now.” Sen Sou tried to tug his arm loose, but Goku's grip tightened. “Right now, for real.”

Hakkai knew Sen Sou not to be the type that would do anything he didn't want to, so watching Goku wrench him to a stand and drag him to the door left him floored; that, or he still felt the weight of Sen Sou's insult like crushing torture. Sen Sou still glowered at him, but Goku mouthed an apology as he forced him out the door. Gojyo had stood to the side, fists clenched and shaking, but as the door shut, he whipped right around, still obviously livid but with sympathy in his eyes.

“Fuck that guy! Shit, I had no idea he'd go off on you like that for just talking about what you were gonna do--”

“He's not entirely wrong,” Hakkai murmured, slumping down as if he'd exhaled and aspirated his guts and lungs with it. “The trader, he said something similar. If he's not the only one who thinks such things of me...”

"Hey." Gojyo's posture softened with his voice, shoulders lowering, fists unfolding, and he crouched down by Hakkai. "He's just a jackass, and that trader guy too, neither of 'em know what they're talkin' about. You gotta know what's right for you better than anyone."

"Yes." Hakkai nodded, but didn't lift his chin. Gojyo's eyes were too sharp in the firelight, and Hakkai felt he'd been cut one too many times this evening already. "I do. I think I may need to consider very carefully what that means, and perhaps reconsider my plans for my future." He folded his hands on his lap, smiling blithely at the shadows between his fingers. "Perhaps I do need to change."

Gojyo knit his brow up, tentatively extending a hand with his eyebrow raised. Hakkai lifted a hand and forced his usual bright smile for Gojyo. "Ah, but the hour's gotten late. We can worry about all that in the morning. How about one more cup of tea before bed?"

Gojyo studied Hakkai for a long moment, and Hakkai would have sworn the cadence of Gojyo's breath was the ocean roaring in his ears. Finally, Gojyo broke the near-silence: “Bed, huh? Tired this early?”

“I'm afraid so, yes.” Hakkai managed a wan smile, and rose to put his bowl in the wash basin. He could still feel Gojyo watching him, but he couldn't look at him as he asked, “I know you prefer the rain barrel, but would you mind staying in here with me tonight?”

“Sure.” Gojyo shuffled back to a stand. “Just let me wash my face, okay?” He trudged out, and when the door shut again, the Hakkai found himself struck by the emptiness of the room.

The void seemed as dense as wet sand, and Hakkai felt crushed by it.

* * *

"I wanna go to the orchard again."

Hakkai looked to Gojyo at this, as he stared down the long road from the shoreline towards the fields. "Do you?" Gojyo had been relatively quiet since the night before, though Hakkai could blame part of that on him sleeping in the futon most of the night while Hakkai lay awake, stilled on his mat and stewing in his considerations, but for him to break from their mundane, habitual conversation somehow felt off to Hakkai. Even in the dim morning light, he could see the scrapes and bruises on Gojyo's legs and arms from climbing the trees the day before, and he disguised his concern under a wry little smile. "I feel as if the orchards might be working you harder than you work them."

Gojyo barked out a quick laugh. "Hey, I might get scraped up a little, but climbing trees is kinda fun, you know?"

Hakkai considered it for a moment. Leaving Gojyo alone meant that nobody would be there to keep an eye on him, but it also meant Hakkai would be alone. After being grateful for Gojyo's silent presence in the dark last night, after lots of thinking, he would be grateful for a little space to act without worrying over Gojyo. "If you're enjoying it, don't let me stop you. Will you come back tonight?"

"For sure!" Gojyo grinned with all his teeth. "Meet at the same tree as last night?"

"Certainly."

They parted ways in the same spot as before, Gojyo jogging off towards the orchards and Hakkai heading for the rice paddies. Hakkai winced a little to see the damp patches left after Gojyo's footprints, but heaved a sigh and shrugged to himself. "I'll work on his shoes again tonight." Thinking of his friend in pain nagged at him, but at the same time, he had other, bigger things to worry about, and the possibilities for a future that stretched long beyond tonight.

Gojyo, however, had been thinking too, and he kept thinking all the way down to the orchards. Sure enough, when he got there, Goku was already hard at work in a tree, but before Goku could raise a hand to hail him, Gojyo called back: "Get down! We gotta talk about something!" Goku, frowning, jumped down, only for Gojyo to take him by the arm and walk him deeper into the rows of trees. "We gotta talk somewhere quiet about something." He winged Goku around. "You said you weren't the right person to tell me, but someone's gotta, 'cause last night gave me the idea that I am missing something real damn important."

"You're goddamn right you are." It wasn't Goku who had confirmed it, but Gojyo looked behind him to see Sen Sou, pipe in hand, sitting under the tree Goku had been climbing not thirty seconds earlier. Gojyo would have hit the ceiling if they were inside, vile anger tearing its way through him like a sudden spurt of heat from a volcanic vent, and before he knew it he was getting out the claws and storming towards him, hackles raised.

"You fucker, you got a lot of fuckin' nerve--"

"Gojyo, no!" Goku hooked both of his arms. "He wanted to explain!"

Gojyo, still in the storm of anger, tried to twist from Goku's grip. "Yeah, he better fucking explain!"

"I intend to." Sen Sou rose to a stand, pulling the basket from his face and dropping it behind him as he took a long drag on his pipe. "I shouldn't be the one telling you this, since it's Hakkai's business and not ours, but I have the distinct notion he's not going to."

This actually stilled Gojyo, and Goku loosened his grip on Gojyo's arms. "He shouldn't'a said that stuff to Hakkai last night, but it's just 'cause he's worried, right?" Goku gave Sen Sou a heavy, hangdog look, and Sen Sou scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Worried, let's go with that. But you need to understand." He jabbed the end of the pipe at Gojyo's chest. "Someone needs to talk some sense into him. He's blinded himself because of what happened before, and while I don't know what it is you do for him, he needs to open his eyes and see the opportunity and you ought'a understand what it is he's got on his path."

Gojyo eased onto his back foot, legs too tense, instinct telling him to turn tail and get out of this current, but something else telling him he was about to get exactly what he wanted. "You got my attention. What is it I'm missing here?"

Goku and Sen Sou caught each other's eyes for a moment, before Goku nodded with resolution and Sen Sou grounded his heels and faced Gojyo head on.

"He hasn't told you about his sister, has he?"

 


	14. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Sen Sou raise Hakkai's history from the dust...

**14: Ashes to Ashes**

"His sister, huh?" Gojyo rubbed the back of his head as he thought. He searched his memory, but nothing really sprang to mind. "He mentioned he had a sister... oh, yeah. He told me she doesn't live here anymore." Goku and Sen Sou glanced to one another, and Goku spoke first, sotto voce:

"She doesn't live anywhere anymore. She died two years ago."

"Oh." Gojyo felt his feet land hard on the ground, though he hadn't moved. "Well, shit, he didn't tell me that."

"Yeah." Goku glanced to Sen Sou again, before shrugging a little. "This could take a minute. We ought'a sit down. You wanna start?" Goku was already easing down to a cross-legged sit in the dirt, as Sen Sou scoffed and put his hands on his hips.

"He'd probably rather hear it from you. You speak his language."

"Yeah, but you speak better than me. Plus, you know the older stuff better." Goku leaned back on his palms, obviously unperturbed by Sen Sou's annoyance. Sen Sou huffed, then sat down, and Gojyo followed suit.

"Fine, fine." Sen Sou fixed his glare on Gojyo. "The previous Pig Farmer Cho was not the master of the house, but the lady, Hakkai's mother, Cho Bai. Hakkai's father, Cho Lung Bo, was a fisherman, like nearly every other man in this town, but it is Hakkai's mother's father who started the entire mess."

"Oh, yeah?" Gojyo scratched his head. "Hakkai mentioned him, he was some sort of scholar or somethin'?"

"Some sort." Sen Sou sneered. "The man tutored princes and advised the Emperor himself for two decades. He raised his daughter in Beijing. I had the privilege of speaking with the man while he lived, and found him as intelligent as his reputation suggests. However, he moved to the shore when his wife took ill, and though it had been his intention to return to the capital after his wife passed, grief apparently made him retire here." Sen Sou paused. "Besides that, his daughter fell in love with a fisherman in the intervening time, and willingly stepped from her caste to marry him. She fell pregnant soon before her mother passed, and her father wanted to see his grandchild."

"Grandchildren, it turned out," Goku muttered, scratching at the dirt next to his knees. "Hakkai and Kanan were twins."

"Yes; Kanan elder by minutes, but he chased her heels in a fine hurry, so was my understanding." Sen Sou rolled his eyes. "All the older people in town would laugh at the pair of them, saying that she'd always led him around, even before they were born."

"They were super close." Goku twisted his fingers together. "Hakkai doesn't make friends easy, y'know? I dunno if it's because he always had Kanan, or maybe he just preferred her."

"It's moot now." Sen Sou returned his focus to Gojyo. "His grandfather doted on him, though. He saw potential in the both of them, and though their mother had lowered herself, he had ambitions for raising the pair of them up. Hakkai, at least. He taught Hakkai everything he knew, with intentions of sending him to school."

"Yeah, but that's where Hakkai's dad comes in." Goku scrunched his nose, and Sen Sou pulled a face as well.

"I only know this from hearing Hakkai's grandfather tell it to the village elder, but Cho Lung Bo hated that his son was 'putting on airs' and talking like a nobleman. He feels like too many morons around here do: we do just fine with fish and farming, what do we need with books and education?"

"You can't catch fish when your head's in the clouds," Goku mumbled. Gojyo scowled, wrapping an arm around one knee as if to start restraining himself.

"I'm guessing he ain't around no more, either."

"Drowned, five years ago." Goku nodded, and Sen Sou sniffed.

"A great loss," he said, head cocked back and the expression of one who'd just announced he'd stomped on a cockroach plain in his mien. "But he refused to allow Hakkai to go away to school, no matter how his grandfather pleaded, even from his death bed."

"There wasn't a lot of money to go around by then, anyway. Koushu had been cracking the whip for years by then." Goku hung his head. "Hakkai could've just run away, but he wouldn't have been able to pay for it."

“His father,” Sen Sou went on, “overworked himself straining to catch and sell enough fish to pay the tribute, and fell in and drowned. His raft washed ashore one cold fall morning, and his corpse, half-eaten by the fish, rolled in a few days later.” Sen Sou rolled his eyes, but let his gaze land beside Gojyo's knees. “His mother grieved herself into an early grave not a year later, leaving Kanan and Hakkai on their own.”

“They did okay, and all.” Goku shrugged. “Kanan had learned to take care of the pigs, and Hakkai could do the traps for fish and worked the fields like he does now, but he still wanted to go to academy. He'd read everything he could get his hands on with the spare change they had, and squirreled what he could into a little savings, but the tributes kept getting more expensive, so...”

“He got nowhere.” Sen Sou narrowed his eyes. “Kanan supported him, happy with her lot just to have him. She hoped to chase him, as the woman behind the man, and to go to the capital with him, but as that became less and less possible with every passing tribute, she decided to become the woman supporting the man.”

Gojyo looked between Goku and Sen Sou a moment, brow furrowed. “That sounds nice and all, but why didn't she want to go to school too? Hakkai said his grandpa taught the both of them everything.”

Sen Sou snorted. “She was born with a curse. It's called a vulva. I don't know what it's like where you're from, but women in podunk places like our bucolic little slice of paradise can do little more than mind the house, marry and produce healthy sons.”

“Not that it's better in the cities.” Goku fidgeted. “Hakkai told me that in the cities, women don't even leave the house.” He screwed up his face for a moment, drawing the words out as he plucked them from deep in his memory: “The most... liked...?”

“'The most highly praised woman is the one about whom nobody speaks,'” Sen Sou muttered. “Or were you stretching for 'The advice of a clever woman can ruin a strong town?' There are no shortages of 'common wisdom' that curse the intelligent woman and praise the subservient.” Sen Sou then wagged a finger. “But then you remember sayings like, 'The man is the head of the household, but the woman is the neck that turns the head.'”  
  
“Kanan had always turned heads, if y'know what I mean.” Goku chuckled weakly, and Sen Sou kicked dirt at him.

“Hakkai would pinch you if he heard you.” He refilled his pipe. “But then, you knew her better than I. Did you know she was going to do what she did?”

“No, that was women's business.” Goku bit his lip. “I think I found out when Hakkai did. It was three years ago, now, and it was just another day, y'know?” He smiled weakly, one of those smiles that were either meant to wick out the tension or that came because the absurdity of something was just too much. “Hakkai was still trying to teach me to read, then...”

_"Not a single one." Hakkai clicked his tongue at Goku, shaking his head as he handed Goku's torn piece of parchment back to him. "You can't pronounce or write a single character, and yet your aimless doodles of oversized lizards are on point." Goku pounded his hands in the dirt._

_"They're not doodles! The elder told me about them! They're demons!" Goku waved his hands, trying to gesticulate their size and how monstrous they were. "Giant monsters who roam in the shadows of cities to punish people for getting smart with the gods!"_

_"Oh?" Hakkai smiled wryly, expression just a little sinister in the shade of the peach tree. "Aren't you a bit old to believe in such stories?" He sat back, studying Goku past the tip of his nose and squinting just enough for Goku to notice. "Moreover, are you trying to tell me there's something wrong with being smart?"_

_"Only when you get smart with the gods." Goku nodded sagely. "Like, you can't know more than them."_

_"Ah, a barb against hubris, is it?" Hakkai chuckled wearily, then got to his feet and motioned for Goku to follow. "I suppose if I were an educated man, I might hold my head a bit higher, but even then I think it takes a special kind of man to truly rival the gods, and I am not that man."_

_"I don't think so either, even if you are way smarter than me." Goku chuckled a little as he hopped up to his feet. "Can I come say hi to Big Sis Kanan before I go home?"_

_"Are you going to say hello to her through a mouthful of our rice crackers?" Hakkai eyed Goku with playful suspicion, and Goku just laughed._

_"Only if Big Sis says it's okay for me to have some."_

_Goku tagged at Hakkai's heels as they walked back along the road to Hakkai's hut by the shore, and Goku could hear the pigs before they even started down the hill. Hakkai's face tightened as they closed in. “They're loud today.”_

“ _Huh?”_

“ _The pigs.” Hakkai's pace quickened, just enough for Goku to notice. “They're loud today. Perhaps Kanan has visitors.” Goku hopped a step faster to keep up with Hakkai, knowing this was just sort of how the pair of them worked. When Hakkai was low or frustrated, Kanan was the one to touch his face and shoulders and lift his spirits. When the men from town got fresh or aggressive with Kanan, Hakkai would lead her away by the arm, putting his thin body between her and any remote sign of danger. Still, nothing around here would hurt Kanan._

_And yet, the horse-drawn carriage parked beside the paddock was very much not from 'around here,' and the footman in livery beside it even less familiar. Hakkai saw the unfamiliar vehicle and broke into a run, and Goku, not sure what a fancy thing like that was doing in a place like this nor what could be in Hakkai's head, gave chase, as curious as he was concerned._

_Hakkai stood frozen in the doorway, taking in the tableau in the tiny space. Kanan was seated in the very center of the room on the stool Hakkai's mother had sat in while sewing to keep the cloth off the floor, dressed in a flattering but unfamiliar red silk gown and flanked by a few of the old biddies from town. She smiled, but Goku could see her mouth was wound just a little too tight. Even more disconcerting was that Kougaiji was standing at Kanan's shoulder, and a stranger in silk clothes crouched before her with an inkwell at his side, a pen in one hand and parchment in the other._

“ _... she is a vision, to be certain, Young Master Kougaiji.” The strange artist, nondescript and undistinguished but for his fine clothes, flicked his pen a few more times. “I can't see Lord Maoh objecting to the arrangement, given what sits before me.”_

_Kougaiji gave a noncommittal hum, eyeing Kanan with a raised brow for a moment. “I should hope. My friend has much to offer any man.”_

_One of the older women – a known gossip, but a longtime matchmaker for that very reason – actually batted at Kougaiji's arm. “But this is a Lord, young master! The gentry! Imagine, our lovely Kanan the lady of a household, in standing where a girl as wonderful as her belongs!”_

_Hakkai, gaping and struck silent, suddenly pushed his way through. “Kanan, what are they talking about?!”_

_Kanan startled, but quickly folded her hands on her lap again and drew her shoulders back, her hair tumbling over her shoulder in little waves. The artist spun about too, and frowned as he studied Hakkai._

“ _Who's this, then?”_

“ _Her brother,” Kougaiji answered, as he stepped between Hakkai and the artist. “Her only living relative, I believe I mentioned.”_

“ _Ah.” The artist barely bowed, hardly a bob of the head, then stepped back. “Your sister is lovely. She will make a fine wife for Lord Maoh.”_

“ _W-wife – Kanan.” Hakkai skirted the man as if he weren't there and knelt in front of Kanan. “Who is this Lord Maoh? You're marrying him? What have you –“_

_One of the older women swatted at Hakkai before Kanan could answer for herself. “Shameful boy, your sister finally took some initiative in getting herself a husband since you haven't done anything to get her on her way!”_

_Hakkai jumped to a stand, shoulders set back like a tiger on the prowl and danger clear in his smile. “Dear lady, my sister's union or lack thereof are entirely her decision--”_

_Another woman whacked at Hakkai. “This is just your problem! You should consider yourself so fortunate--”_

“ _Excuse me.” Kanan piped up, raising her thin hand from her chair. “I would like to return the dress. Could someone kindly help me out of it?”_

_All of the old women began to fawn over Kanan at once with soothing reassurances, 'of course, dear!' 'let me undo the buttons, child,' while the eldest spun around with a nasty scowl at all the men in the room, screeching at Hakkai, Kougaiji, Goku, and the artist: “Men out! A modest, chaste woman is changing!”_

_Somehow, five little old ladies shooed every man in the house out in a matter of seconds, slamming the door shut behind them, and Goku could only scratch his head. Kanan changed around Hakkai all the time, they lived together and all, but as Hakkai glowered at the door and through it to the nasty gossips behind it, he realized what Kanan had been going for: keeping Hakkai from continuing the argument. Hakkai did, however, turn around on Kougaiji._

“ _Kougaiji, I implore you, explain.”_

_Kougaiji huffed uncomfortably, eyeing the artist, then murmuring, “Kanan requested I help arrange her a favorable match. She thought, given your family history, your grandfather's reputation in the higher echelons of society, and my connections, I might be able to help... elevate her somewhat.” He shifted his weight, hips stiff, and despite his stoic expression, Goku would have been able to see how uncomfortable he was with the notion from a mile off. “I... I reached out through some of my family ties, and found a cousin seeking a bride.”_

_Hakkai's fists quivered where they hung at his side. “A cousin. Some Lord. Kanan has never expressed any desire for 'elevation,' why would my sister – ”_

“ _Begging your pardon, Young Master Kougaiji,” the artist interrupted, and Goku saw him standing awkwardly beside the carriage.”But, er, it's a long road to the seat of Lord Maoh, even with the aid of a horse, so I'll be taking my leave. Lord Maoh will send his response in a few weeks.”_

“ _Your work is appreciated,” Kougaiji murmured, bowing low. The artist returned the gesture, and turned away from Hakkai without a second glance to mount the carriage and give word to the footman. As the footman took up the reins and made to steer away, Hakkai seized Kougaiji's arm and forced him to turn back around._

“ _Why did nobody tell me?” Hakkai, desperate and angry, tugged him a step closer. “Even you, Kougaiji, given our--”_

“ _Kanan asked me to keep it from you until we saw what came of it.” Kougaiji eased his hand from Hakkai's grasp. “She will explain it to you. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, but please talk to her.” Kougaiji turned, leaving Hakkai grabbing at nothing. “She'll want to explain to you in her own words.”_

_Hakkai hung his head and let his hands fall to his side. “Of course she would.” Kougaiji exhaled sharply through his nose and turned for the road, just as the door opened to let the gaggle of squawking old women out. They all flanked Kougaiji, and Goku could hear them already needling at him, distinctly something about 'find a lovely girl for you next, young lord!' and less distinctly, Kougaiji's gentle denial, but Hakkai strode for the door where Kanan waited, dressed in her normal cotton frock, hands folded at her waist, and the same nervous smile pinned in place. Hakkai took both of her hands in his and kissed the backs of them, and Goku saw her squeeze his palms as he held her gaze. “Kanan, please tell me what's going on.”_

“ _It's as they said.” Her smile faltered, her eyelashes fluttered as her focus ducked away. “I'd like to get married. Kougaiji found a cousin of his, twice or three times removed, who's of age and looking for a wife, and on liking, he's agreed to take me as bride.”_

_Hakkai's jaw fell open hard, and he had to shake off a shiver and spat out, “Why?! If he wanted a woman so badly, there are other women in this town—”_

“ _I wanted this, Hakkai. For you.” Kanan squeezed Hakkai's hands again, and though Hakkai opened his mouth to try to speak, Kanan spoke first: “If I marry a nobleman who finds me appealing, he'll be willing to pay a bride-price to my family. You.” Her voice caught for a moment, but she hurried on, “And... Lord Chin Maoh has tentatively agreed to my request.” Goku noticed Kanan grounding her heels and locking her knees, and any remote sense of levity vanished from her smile: “If he accepts me as bride, as soon as I can provide him with a healthy son, he will pay your entire tuition through academy and sponsor you at court.”_

_Hakkai's eyes widened, and Goku could see the war in his mind being fought at the corners of his lips, twitching like the legs of an insect that had been crushed. “You... you...”_

“ _I want you to be happy.” Kanan leaned in and kissed his cheek, then threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled her forehead towards his until their noses touched. “To become a learned man, to share that knowledge with the world, it's what you've always wanted.” He flinched, but her hand slid down his cheek, his shoulder, his arm, until she could take both of his hands in hers again. “These hands, Hakkai.” She turned his palms over to the sky. “They're such wonderful, dexterous things, but look at the scars here.” She traced the thin lines where fishing nets and lines had dug into the flesh, the pads of his fingers where the loops and whorls had been erased by friction and wear. “These hands were not meant for the lowly, mindless work of the mundane. They belong between the pages of books, with pen and parchment.” She tipped her face up to kiss his nose, then got on tiptoe to kiss him between the eyes, and whispered, “These eyes were not meant to squint into the harsh sun. You weren't meant for a plain life, and if I can give you better, I will.”_

“ _But the cost, Kanan--” Hakkai scrabbled for purchase on her hands again, then cupped her cheeks in his palms. “I only ever wanted more if I could give it to you, too!” Goku shifted back, the intense intimacy between the two of them actually making him feel like he'd intruded, even though he'd been invited. When they were like this with one another, it was as if nobody else even existed, as if the two of them were a single universe, a lone star in the sky that blazed regardless of anything around them, untouchable, unbreakable. Kanan, for her part, truly smiled when Hakkai touched her face and the corners of her eyes._

“ _You've given me a lot. Hope, for one. You've been my best friend and companion for all these years.” She giggled a little. “All the other girls in town talk about how their brothers are rude and awful, but I was blessed to come into this world with you. If I have to make this sacrifice so I can give you something back, it'll be worth it to know I boosted you a step forward. Besides!” She patted his shoulders. “If I'm a lady, and you're a diplomat or adviser or the like, you can host me at fancy parties and I'll be your personal patron, and we can still be a wild team. I'll always be the woman behind you.”_

“ _But Kanan, that man said he lived a long way off, even by horse.” Hakkai sounded as if he was chewing on his own soul. “I won't be able to come see you. Worse, your new husband--” The word stuck in his teeth like gristle, and Hakkai spat it with the same disgust as one might the same-- “may not even allow me to see you. I don't want to be apart from you.”_

“ _You won't be.” Kanan laid her palm on Hakkai's chest. “We'll never be apart. Our hearts came into this world together, they're the same, and they'll always be together.”_

_Hakkai laced his fingers with hers and bowed his head to touch her forehead with his. “Kanan...”_

“ _I know.” She grasped his hand where he held hers over his heart. “I'll miss you. But I want you to be happy more than I want to stay with you.”_

_Hakkai winced, but said nothing more, and the two held each other in a way that was somehow more intimate than either siblings or even lovers. They were just a complete unit. Goku felt like he was intruding just watching. After a moment, Kanan withdrew, running her thumb over Hakkai's jawline again. “Promise me you'll take care of the pigs when I'm gone? At least until you go off to school.”_

“ _I will, of course.” Hakkai clearly didn't want to withdraw yet, but she pulled away too soon, and stood looking bereft as Kanan turned her attention to Goku with a smile._

“ _It's good to see you again! Sorry about the hullabaloo.” Kanan flapped a dainty little hand as if Goku had walked into the aftermath of a neighborhood dust-up fight instead of an impact to Hakkai's very core. “Why don't you come in for a little snack? The elder would have fussed at me if I didn't at least offer!”_

“ _S-sure.” Goku put on a tight smile, already knowing that Kanan wanted to keep a happy face on this. “So, you're gettin' married, huh? Is that why you had that pretty dress on?”_

“ _Oh, that!” Kanan laughed, ears turning just a little pink as she led Goku to the door. “No, no, the women in town wanted me to look nice for the artist sketching me, they insisted I put the silly thing on. Though, I suppose I'll have to wear a wedding dress of some sort if Lord Maoh does choose to accept me.”_

“ _Yeah. I wish I could see it.” Goku felt his lips turn down without his say-so at the thought. “But as pretty as ya looked in that other one, I can't see why he'd say no.”_

_Hakkai hadn't moved from where he stood, but had pivoted to gaze out towards the ocean as if nothing existed but himself and the sand under his feet. Goku wouldn't forget that forlorn look._

_It was the very same mask Hakkai donned when the carriage returned to town five weeks later, when two armed guards came and all but pried Kanan from Hakkai's last embrace, as he watched her be escorted away to be the first wife to the young Lord Chin Maoh..._

Gojyo seemed completely befuddled by Goku's recounting. “So, wait, she just, gives herself away? And thinks she's gonna get Hakkai to school in exchange?”

“A woman's only worth as much as her bride-price,” Sen Sou muttered, “so it's said.” He sneered and held his hands up. “Never mind how clever, how bright, how talented, nor how well-spoken and interesting she is, if her family is wealthy they'll pay to get her off their hands in exchange for possible elevation, and if they're poor they'll hope she finds a man who's willing to give them something good in exchange for her.” His face twisted into a bitter mask, a mix of annoyance and disgust. “The fact that people so commonly barter with their own imagined worth...”

Gojyo curled his lip. “Yeah, that ain't right.”

Sen Sou harrumphed. “We are all worth nothing in the end.”

“Hey,” Goku muttered, flicking dust at Sen Sou. “That's not nice.”

“True and nice are often incompatible.”

“Whatever.” Goku stuck his tongue out at Sen Sou, then faced Gojyo again. “But that was the deal. One son, and Lord Chin Maoh would send Hakkai to school. Kanan sent Hakkai a few letters, but I don't think she was allowed to write much. He told me about two, one where she said she and Maoh were getting along okay, and then one a few months later when she told Hakkai she was expecting.” He bit his lip. “There weren't a lot more letters after that.”

Sen Sou's face only twisted to a more sour bent. “I don't know if there were any. One could see it in Hakkai, how each day that passed without word twisted like a knife in his gut...”

“ _Good morrow, Pig Farmer Cho!” Sen Sou pounded both hands on the ground, the clay grinding into red stains on his palms, and Hakkai tsked him as he halted on the path and knelt down near him._

“ _I'm not a pig farmer. I'm merely filling in for Kanan.”_

_Sen Sou could see the resignation through the gaps in his basket, but hoped Hakkai couldn't see him scrutinizing through the same holes. “You say that as if she'll return.”_

_Hakkai laughed, but it was a hollow noise, as hollow as the bags under his eyes and the gaps between his ribs. Sen Sou wondered if Hakkai ate or slept at all, or if he dreamt during the day because he didn't at night. “I have no illusions that she'll return; only that the last I'll see of the pigs is when I might be reunited with her.”_

“ _Hmm.” Sen Sou studied Hakkai as he fished into his vest pockets, unable to read his blank smile, until he found a few coins and brightened just a little._

“ _I've little to share, but nobody else to share with. I suggest you make good use of it.” The tightness in Hakkai's expression told Sen Sou he meant well enough, but that his kindness was meant for someone else._

_Besides that, Hakkai clearly said everything Sen Sou needed to hear: whatever hopes he had were on someone else, too._

_Sen Sou merely pocketed the coins and averted his gaze. “Any news on the Lady Cho and your unborn relative?”_

_Hakkai stood at this, breaking eye contact with Sen Sou. “I'm afraid I can't really claim her as relation right now, can I? She's a lady, in a faraway place, above my station. Her, and anyone connected to her, can't possibly be mine now.” He trudged away, what little energy he had wicked out of him by that simple question..._

“I imagine he felt guilt at not being able to keep her with him.” Sen Sou's tongue flicked as if he didn't want the words anywhere near him. “As if it was his choice to begin with.”

"Sen sees it differently," Goku mumbled, and Gojyo noticed him tracing little shapes in the dust with his fingers. "But when ya don't got much to hold on to, it's kind of natural to hold on tight to whatever you got. When all I had was a name and a voice to scream it with, all I did was scream. All Hakkai had was Kanan, and she left."

"You don't gotta do the rest of the math for me. Hakkai ain't in school." Gojyo crossed his arms, glowering between the two of them. "I'm guessing she only gave that Chin guy daughters, huh? Wasn't able to uphold her end of the deal before she passed?"

Goku and Sen Sou both glanced to one another, Goku with an obvious grimace, and even Sen Sou looking more bitter than sour. After a moment, Goku answered: “She didn't.”

Gojyo's eyes widened. “Wait, so--”

“The note Lord Chin sent,” Sen Sou growled, “laid it out plain.” He gave Goku a firm look, mouth tight, and Goku dropped his focus to the dirt.

“The folks in town still whisper about that morning sometimes. Some folks say that it sounded like a wild animal, a boar on a rampage, but I just heard someone screaming like their guts were getting shredded out...”

_Goku heard the screaming in the streets, a cry that shattered the peaceful dawn, and ran from his bed, ready for a fire or a riot, but not at all ready for what he did see: Hakkai, staggering through the center street of town past the derelict windows and walls, with a shrouded figure slung in his arms, and blood dripping from the cloth around the form, down Hakkai's hands and legs, in a long trail all the way Hakkai had come. Goku could see him talking, quickly, angrily, at the older women from the town who'd clearly come running just the same as he, until his voice rose to a screaming pitch:_

“ _... and you put this FOOLISH IDEA INTO HER HEAD!” He thrust the load in his arms towards them, and Goku felt his guts drop out through his core when he saw feet swinging limp under the shroud, like a man in a hangman's noose but too small, too dainty, and still dripping blood. Hakkai's eyes were wild and mad, gleaming in the too-early light. “You vaunted him, and he used her and threw her away! Dropped on my doorstep in a puddle of blood, and he'd do the same to any of us! Like we're all just yesterday's refuse, goods to be bartered and traded and thrown away! You convinced her to bargain herself away!”_

_The old gossips, always so loud, always with a nasty word, were dumbstruck as Goku and a few other men ran forward to try and lash Hakkai back, but he slung an elbow at those trying to grab him like the sharp stab of a dagger, standing firm and glowering around them, gaze fierce and fiery. “Every one of you! You've let us all be driven to this, and look what they give us in return!” He held the body in his arms out, and as he whipped around again, Goku saw the tears that spilled down his cheeks in a river, catching in the light like dying stars. “If we had any spine between the lot of us, she would never have--!” He stormed a step towards the others again, the corpse in his arms swaying, his voice a howl, “NEVER--!”_

_Someone hooked Hakkai around the waist, and Goku saw Sen Sou had gotten a grip on him. “Put her down,” he growled, “We need to bury her. You're not helping her.”_

“ _NOTHING CAN HELP HER!” Hakkai dropped his burden as he struggled with Sen Sou, and despite already knowing, despite not having to ask, Goku's stomach still lurched as Kanan, glass-eyed and still, tumbled to the ground and lay, stiller than sleep, paler than ice, with a piece of parchment pinned to her burial shroud. Goku dropped to his knees and tried to gather her up, her stiff fingers, once so soft and gentle, as cold and hard as steel against his palms._

“ _Big Sis, no...” Goku squinted at the note, but the symbols made less sense than ever. Sen Sou craned his neck around to read it as well. “What--”_

“ _She died in childbed giving that Lord what he demanded of her!” Hakkai sobbed, lashing against Sen Sou, and Sen Sou tried to ground his heels as Hakkai struggled to get loose again. “She died failing to give life to that man's child, and this is her reward for giving her life!”_

“ _The note says,” Sen Sou said, just loud enough to be heard, “that she failed to hold up her end of the deal.”_

_The town was struck silent but for Hakkai's belabored breathing, even as it turned into mad laughter. “You see it now, you all have to see it. None of you are idiots.” He smeared his hand back over his forehead, blood streaking his skin and hair. “They... the wealthy, the nobles, those with power, they take and take and take from us, everything they can!” Goku shivered, because this wasn't Hakkai. Hakkai was even-keeled and serious, Hakkai was calm and rational, Hakkai kept quiet. Hakkai didn't scream. Hakkai wouldn't point an accusing, demanding finger towards the throngs surrounding him. “This, this Lord Chin! Lady Koushu! Even Kougaiji! They see us as nothing but pigs to slaughter! We are but cuts of meat to be used! But they forget! They forget!” Hakkai laughed again, not looking at anything at all but staring as if he could see the entire world even from his restraint against Sen Sou. “There are more of us! There are more of us than them! Let them come into our damned paddock, we could rise up and EAT THEM ALL!”_

_Goku couldn't take it anymore, and moved to pick Kanan up. “C'mon, Big Sis, I'll--”_

_Hakkai lunged for Goku and roared, “DON'T TOUCH HER! NONE OF YOU TOUCH HER!”_

_Sen Sou quickly seized Hakkai again, struggling to control him as Hakkai tried to loose himself. “Someone help me restrain him, he's not in his right mind!”_

_As the men in town looked from eye to eye and seemed to come to a resolution, as the older women, contrite and sorrowful, gathered around to pick up Kanan's body, Hakkai strained and screamed, “They'll crush us if we don't do something! They'll kill us all like they did her if we don't take a stand! We'll all be slaughtered if we just stand by!”_

_The men surrounded him, and Goku couldn't look. Maybe Hakkai wasn't wrong, and maybe Kanan's corpse was the only evidence Hakkai needed of. However, the hopeless resignation with which the entire town swallowed the Cho twins told Goku that no matter how obvious the problem was, there wouldn't be a solution here._

_Hakkai was lashed to a pole outside of town, facing the ocean, for days. Sen Sou often sat near him in “silent meditation,” watching him, not speaking with him, but studying him. Hakkai struggled through his madness like a crippled man wrestling a god, screaming and begging to be let loose, but nobody, not even Sen Sou, did anything he demanded except pour water down his throat and replace the ropes when he broke through them. He didn't calm for a week, but Goku happened to be the one who was sent to check on him when calm seemed to settle in like the sun sinking down over the cliffs._

_Hakkai was sitting still against the pole, gazing bleakly into the sunset. Sen Sou was there, sitting with his back to the ocean, but he caught Goku's eye and nodded for him to come closer. Goku trudged towards Hakkai where he slumped, looking all the world like he'd been crushed underfoot by some great demon. Goku crouched down a few paces away from him, trying to catch his focus, but Hakkai seemed more interested in the sunset._

“ _Hey, Hakkai?” Goku tilted his head forward. The sunlight was too bright on Hakkai's skin, but Goku could plainly see the marks where the ropes had bit into his arms and legs, criss-crossed and looping around his body. He could see where some of them had been bleeding, too. Hakkai finally glanced over to him, and smiled in a curious, blank way._

“ _Ah, it's good to see you.” His voice rattled in his throat, scratchy and raspy, but his diction was, as ever, precise. “I, er, should apologize for the last time we spoke.” He lowered his chin, still avoiding looking into Goku's face, still wearing that odd smile. His expression reminded Goku of a painted doll's: symmetrical, perfect, and meaningless. “I was not quite myself. I'm feeling better now.”_

“ _Uh. Okay.” Goku extended a nervous hand to touch the ropes looped around Hakkai's shoulder and beside his neck. “Um, do the ropes hurt?”_

“ _Not anymore. I'm alright.” Hakkai's smile shifted to show teeth. “Though, if you'd untie me, I'd very much like to go home, now. I... I need to feed the pigs.” His chin dropped lower, but Goku quickly waved his hands._

“ _I fed 'em for ya! They're doin' just fine!”_

“ _Ah!” Hakkai instantly brightened, that smile looking more genuine, if only by a thread. “Thank you, then, from the bottom of my heart.” He seemed to look Goku in the face, or maybe just past it. “She... she asked me to take care of them, you know. I'd feel dreadful if I'd failed in that due to... ah... my own failings.” He seemed sheepish, remorseful, and while not entirely himself, stable enough. Goku moved to untie the first rope, then glanced to Sen Sou. Sen Sou had watched the exchange without moving or speaking, and remained silent even now, only nodding. With that, Goku went about the task of untying Hakkai, unwinding all the thin ropes that had tethered him to reality so he could rise again. Hakkai rubbed at the marks on his arms and wrists as he stood, pulling his face tight. Goku reached out again, but stopped. Something in Hakkai's expression, or maybe just the memory of his expression when Goku had tried to put Kanan back into her burial shroud, told him that maybe touching Hakkai was a bad idea._

“ _So, um...” Goku fidgeted, gripping his elbow in his palm and kneading the inside of his arm, but failed to lift his face to look at Hakkai again. Hakkai didn't seem to mind, instead still studying his arms with an inscrutable expression. “You, uh, wanna go –”_

“ _Kanan.” Hakkai's mouth worked for a moment failing to form words or even complete thoughts, and he hung his head low. “Her... she... what did...”_

_Goku wished he could bit his tongue off, but he bit his lip a moment before saying: “We buried her, and the whole town mourned her. Even Kougaiji came down. He wanted to offer his condolences, but we told him you were, um, sick.”_

“ _Not yourself,” Sen Sou muttered in addendum, and Goku cringed as his very presence seemed to weigh on Hakkai, making his shoulders sag._

“ _Will you... will you show me her grave, then?”_

_Goku led Hakkai to the town's burial grounds on high ground, with Sen Sou following them not too far behind, to the fresh dirt still damp from being overturned, where Kanan now rested. Hakkai gazed down at the patch of earth for a very long time, the wind blowing past and through all three of them, and Goku got the sense that even reunited with his sister, Hakkai was keenly feeling incomplete. Even as he knelt and gathered some of the dirt in his hands, Goku could only see him reaching for something he could no longer touch._

_The sun had nearly vanished when Hakkai finally spoke again: “She was mourned?”_

“ _Oh, yeah, for sure!” Goku nodded hard enough to knock himself off balance a little. “Even Sen Sou said a prayer--”_

“ _I didn't pray for her.” Sen Sou crossed his arms, though Hakkai wasn't looking at him. “What are you going to do now, Hakkai?”_

_Hakkai slowly poured the dirt from his fingers, letting it crumble from between his fingers. He watched the earth rejoin the dirt below his feet, then stood and turned, wearing that same smile. “I suppose I'll do the best I can from here on. After all, I promised Kanan I'd take care of the pigs until she returned, but I suppose she won't be coming home.” He glanced down at her grave again, expression wiping to a blank, before turning and walking away towards his empty home by the beach, towards the paddock..._

“... Except that wasn't really the promise he made, I guess.” Goku traced shapes in the dust, eyebrows all knit up. “He said, he'd take care of the pigs when she was gone, and now she's gone and never coming back.”

Gojyo stared at the senseless tracings Goku had left in the dirt all around his feet, but it just wound everything spinning in his head into tighter and tighter knots. “And that's how it is, huh?”

“Yeah. And I dunno what anyone can do about it.” Goku bit his lip and made himself look at Gojyo. “Most folks in town are just waiting for him to snap again. They try to treat him like he's normal, but everyone knows. Everyone saw.”

“Hakkai,” Sen Sou cut in, his focus locking on Gojyo as Gojyo's mouth worked with disgust and frustration. “Hakkai is still stupidly beholden to that promise. This place. That mud puddle.”

“Thing is,” Goku interrupted right back, and looked right at Gojyo, “You changed stuff. He's been different. The money he's gotten, too, it's changed him. He... he told me you were helping him with it, and all. You helped him find the pearls.” Goku squeezed his hands together. “So, if you keep helping him, maybe he'll find some way to change for the better, really get over the stuff that's hurt him so bad, but I know it ain't fair to ask you to fix him.”

“He can't be fixed.” Sen Sou's eyes narrowed. “He has to fix himself. If you're supporting him, fine, but don't enable him to keep being the way he is.”

“Nah.” Gojyo kicked out his feet, ignoring the way the pebbles scraped his skin as he mulled it over. “If... if there is somethin' I can do, I'm gonna do it. I just dunno what it is.”

Goku and Sen Sou traded looks, and both said, nearly together, “Nobody does.”

“Just stick with him,” Goku added, and got up to his feet and held a hand out to Gojyo. Gojyo took it, and Goku pulled him up to his feet. “He's actually getting better with you around, I think.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo frowned to himself, thinking. “He really wasn't in such good shape when I found him, s'why I came back to check on him. Drownin' all by himself...”

Goku startled. “Drowned? I thought he found you on the beach – and he can swim!”

“Well, yeah, but that night before, I saw him fall off the raft.” He realized something – why the stuff Banri had made him drink tasted so familiar: “He might'a been drinking.”

“Hakkai's not a drinker.” Sen Sou narrowed his eyes, then spun around to Goku. Goku's eyes went wide.

“Oh, man...” Gojyo looked between them, eyebrow raised, but Goku reached out and grabbed Gojyo's arm. “Stick with him, okay?”

There was a whistle in the distance, and Gojyo and Sen Sou turned as Goku jumped around with surprise. “Ah crap, is that the lunch call already?”

Sen Sou scoffed. “And you haven't earned lunch.” He rose up, shoved his basket back over his head, and dusted his ragged robes off. “If you want anything to take home tonight, you should get to it. I've already missed my chance to make anything of myself today, anyway, so I'll find somewhere else to ply my trade.”

Goku shook his head. “Just wait for me, okay? I've got enough to share tonight.”

Sen Sou groused under his breath, but threw a hand up over his shoulder in what seemed to be a farewell as he retreated for the back of the orchard. Gojyo followed Goku back into the rows, still puzzling in his own mind over what he could possibly do more for Hakkai.

The money didn't make a difference to him, and Gojyo couldn't force him to change. There was too much rooting Hakkai to where he stood, and Gojyo was still finding his own land legs and knew it. He couldn't fix this. What he wanted to do was stick with Hakkai until he could find a way to change it, some bargain he could strike or something he could do with what power he had, and he was going to keep his eyes peeled until it emerged.

What he didn't see or hear was Sen Sou meeting Goku a few rows away, accosting him with a bony hand to whisper: “You know what he is, don't you?” Goku just stared at him for a moment, pressing his lips together to try to seal them. Sen Sou gave him a quick throttle. “I know he's not human.”

“So what? He's nice!” Goku pushed Sen Sou's hands off and crossed his arms tight, huffing. Sen Sou shook his head.

“I need to know what kind of demon is hovering over Hakkai's shoulder.”

“He's not a demon.” Goku stomped one foot. “I mean, does he seem evil to you?”

Sen Sou seemed to consider it, eyes narrow under the basket. Then, he shook his head. “Malingering, yes, but malicious, no. However, if he is dangerous--”

“He isn't. Not to Hakkai, for sure.” Goku lowered his chin a little, as Sen Sou studied him, his gaze a little too hard, a little too hot on Goku's face.

“And what,” he said softly, with a frisson of danger running under his tenor, “does that mean?”

“If you don't know, I can't explain it to ya.” Goku stepped back from him, but Sen Sou hooked him by his collar.

“I'll take your word for it, but watch him.”

“Quit it!” Goku pushed him off. “He saved Hakkai's life once already, what more's he gotta do?”

“I merely want to ensure he's not the one pushing him anywhere more dangerous. If Hakkai is truly so low that he would attempt to drown himself--” Sen Sou broke off, seeming to get choked up on the thought, before shaking it off and spitting it out: “Gojyo is an unknown, and we can't predict what Hakkai might do under his influence.”

Goku set his mouth into a firm line. “I dunno, but Gojyo's good for him.”

Sen Sou merely wagged a finger. “That may be so, but he could just as easily be the wrong kind of medicine. Watch him.” He spun right around and stormed off again, leaving Goku grimacing in his wake.

“Why can't he just be good?” He glanced over his shoulder to where Gojyo was reaching as high as he could with those long arms to grab down the apples, but it was clear in his face that his thoughts were elsewhere, with someone else.

Someone else who, Goku knew better than anyone, needed somebody.


	15. Salt and Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai speaks to Kougaiji to strike a bargain, but something about speaking with Kougaiji strikes him to the core.

**15: Salt and Earth**

Hakkai didn't mind being alone for the day. Certainly, he'd had many, many days alone, but one more didn't make much difference.

When he'd been young, he preferred to be alone, or with just a small group, one or two whom he trusted deeply. Kanan, always, of course. Grandfather was ever good company, stern but kind. He did enjoy the time he'd shared with Kanan and Kougaiji when the three of them had been friends. However, he was often alone when he was young, left to his books, left to contemplation.

He didn't regret letting Gojyo join Goku. Today, being left to his devices meant being left to take on something that he worried someone might try to intervene on.

Nobody would see him sidling up to the paymaster at the end of the day and asking in a murmur, “Do you know where Young Master Kougaiji is collecting today?”

The paymaster whipped around on him with shock, but shook it off. “What, were you going to pay off another town's debts, too?”

Hakkai shook his head, still glancing over his shoulder a few times to ensure nobody was listening. “No, I humiliated him. I'd like to offer my apologies.”

The paymaster studied him keenly, wizened eyes deep-set in his skull. Hakkai felt far too aware of his scrutiny; he wasn't naive, he knew that most of these people knew his history, or at least the rumors. However, this man did not need to know that Hakkai needed to move past all that. He needed to know just enough that he would give Hakkai the information he needed.

“Apologies,” the paymaster repeated, shaking his head. He, too, glanced over his shoulder, then leaned towards Hakkai. “You're not going to hurt him, are you?”

“No, sir, nothing of the sort. I mean what I say.” Hakkai smiled as brightly as he could. “I owe him an apology, and I was hoping to find a moment to give it to him.”

The paymaster, still studying Hakkai the same way he would assay a basket of harvested rice, was silent for a long moment. Just when Hakkai nearly felt the need to break the tension, the paymaster broke eye contact with him. “I don't believe he collects this time of the month, not anywhere. You might know where to find him better than I; he's not a creature of change, and you were his friend once.”

“I was.” Hakkai did feel a pang of regret, though he wasn't certain whether it was mourning that he had to speak in the past tense or perhaps because he could agree at all. “I suppose he'll be where I usually found him, then.”

The paymaster, cheeks sucked in tight, nodded. “I suppose he might.”

Hakkai knew the old paths well, past the town and north of the cay, towards the castle but down in the lowlands, far from the mountain path. The path would be guarded now, with Koushu too defensive of her riches to let anyone near her keep. There were already men in thick leather armor dotting the road near the mountain, and Hakkai could just see their fingers inching towards the batons they wore at their hips as he came close. He merely nodded as he passed them by, eschewing the mountain (no matter how he wished he could pull the earth out from under it).

No, he knew how Kougaiji was, and how Kougaiji still was. He and Kougaiji had some things in common that they would sometimes commiserate over, not the least of which was a father with expectations that neither felt they could meet. Kougaiji had often escaped his pressures by the river with a book. That was the same place Hakkai thought he would find him now. He found the worn-down footpath into the brush, down into the little ravine lower than the road, and ducked under the same underbrush and through the same reedy grass he remembered, to the tiny alcove of shoreline by the river that led to the ocean. Kougaiji was seated in repose on the same rock he always used, a book of woven parchment on his knee, but as Hakkai stumbled down through the branches onto the beach, he closed it with a soft clap and inhaled, his head subtly turning to the water running past them southward to the sea.

“It's been a long time since you met me here.”

“It has,” Hakkai agreed, and moved to stand beside but behind Kougaiji. He nodded to the tide mark in the sand. “We made love there, last we spoke alone.”

Kougaiji smiled wryly. “You got sand in your hair and all over your back, and laughed as I cleaned it off of you.”

“I recall.” Hakkai laced his fingers behind his back, and Kougaiji turned to face him, his smile wiped to his too-familiar bitter expression.

“But you aren't here for that, are you?”

“You love another, and not me, and you haven't for a long time.” Hakkai maintained his distance and a shield of a smile. “I have long-since accepted that you chose –”

“– You must believe, it was to protect you from her, but the heart still wants what it wants.” Kougaiji's chin dropped towards his chest, and his gaze to the river. “They … that person is in the same danger I meant to protect you from.”

“And yet, though the heart wanted, you never told me it may still have wanted me.”

“You didn't want me.” Kougaiji cleared his throat and turned his shoulders towards the river again. “You wanted me dead. You shouted as much.”

“As everything I said at that time were, of course, the words of a sound man.” Hakkai nearly laughed aloud. “I did come to apologize. I've been cold to you, and despite the things we shared now being things we must keep to ourselves, I've been uncharitable.”

“Your apology is appreciated and accepted.” Kougaiji rose to a stand, and Hakkai bowed at the waist.

“And fully meant.”

“And not why you came to speak to me.” Kougaiji folded his arms, and Hakkai straightened his back to face him.

“Perhaps not, no.” He kept smiling, kept his shoulders as loose as he could, and put on his best diplomatic voice. “I've come to do what neither of us can do alone, Kougaiji. I'm here to bargain.”

Kougaiji's eyes widened, face drawn with surprise. “Bargain?” Then, he narrowed his eyes to a glower. “What is it I can give you? Name it, and –”

“Not you, courtesy of your stepmother. Perhaps I should be specific.” Hakkai cleared his throat, still smiling, and clapped his hands together. “I seem to have something your stepmother wants quite desperately, seeing the way she forces this town to scrape and scrounge for it.” Hakkai tapped his toe to the ground. “And I want something she has. This.”

Kougaiji furrowed his brow, and followed Hakkai's gaze to the dirt. “Do you mean...” He left his mouth ajar as he thought, as Hakkai confirmed out loud:

“I want to buy this town, every grain of salt and earth beneath our feet.” He clapped his hands together. "As simple as that. Lady Koushu has nothing more to gain from us, as we are getting no more wealthy no matter how much more she demands, so she may as well sell it off. We are but pigs who will never be ready for slaughter, she may as well sell off what she has and cut her losses."

Kougaiji clenched his jaw, brow wrought with what might have been pain or guilt. "I can ask, but..." He shot Hakkai a glare that was meant to cut through his masque, but Hakkai smiled through it, unfazed. "You won't like the answer. She won't give up a potential source of revenue for a pittance."

"I didn't think she would, but then, what revenue can this town possibly offer?" Hakkai spread his hands in a little shrug. "Unless she truly profits or benefits in some way off of tormenting us, she has nothing to lose and at least some sort of gain possible should she wish to strike a deal with me. Any answer at all will do."

Kougaiji exhaled in a huff, shaking his head and turning his glower to the ground for a moment. "And you'll actually try to acquire it."

Hakkai let himself speak softly, pretending to betray some emotion that might still have been there but for Kougaiji's own forced detachment: "It's something both you and I want. At least give me the chance to try."

Kougaiji's brow furrowed deep, his mouth working though his lips stayed sealed. Finally, he muttered, “I can at least inquire. I can't promise her answer will be reasonable, but then, it seems your relationship with reason is as tenuous as – ”

“Your relationship with me.” Hakkai let the venom drip off of his teeth with that smile. Kougaiji bit a scoff off, tossing his head the other way, and marched back up the path to the main road without so much as a farewell.

Hakkai hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until the grass stopped rustling in Kougaiji's wake.

* * *

 

Goku had left with Sen Sou, luring him off from glowering at Gojyo with promises of cabbage stew and rice, but Gojyo lingered by the tree he and Hakkai had used as a meeting place before. The sun was getting low, though, and Gojyo found himself wondering what was taking Hakkai so long. Gojyo knew he tried to hurry to the meeting spot, not just because sometimes he was skiving a little or because he wanted to get back quick so he could dunk his head in the rain barrel, but because it had been all day and while having a chance to talk to Goku and Sen Sou alone was valuable, Gojyo was up for a few quiet minutes with Hakkai.

He'd rather not wait, either. Not after everything he'd heard. He'd rather never take his eyes off of Hakkai again. Instead, he kept his eyes on the distant road, waiting for his shadow to appear.

He heard rustling behind him, and turned to see a familiar woman approaching. Shunrei, that same woman, was carrying a basket of laundry but smiled with recognition when she caught his eye. Gojyo put on a smile, took one last glance over his shoulder, and faced her with a casual smirk. "This your way home, huh?"

"It is, yes, until I work again in the evening." Shunrei laughed uneasily, shifting her weight and settling with her basket in front of her. "Would you, er, want to walk me home?"

"Aw, I would, but I'm waiting for someone." Gojyo chuckled a little, shaking his head. "Besides, you don't know me. I'm as likely to be dangerous to you as anyone else who might be coming up or down this road."

"I don't think you are." Shunrei shook her head, and her smile lost a little of its stiffness. "To be honest, you remind me of my former fiance. Even when you were at your worst, you were nothing but sweet and harmless, and still smiling even though you were in deep trouble." She squeezed the handle of her basket, eyelashes fluttering a little, and Gojyo just chuckled.

"Eh, I'm used to trouble." He tucked his hands into his pockets with a shrug. "Former fiance, huh? What kind of idiot would walk away from a pretty girl like you?"

"One who had no money and the inclination to be bought off." Shunrei bit her lip. "Many young men have had to leave, and he was no different. He wrote for a time, promising to send for me when he made his fortune, but one day he wrote that he'd been invited to marry his employer's daughter, and couldn't turn away a chance to make his fortune even if it meant forgetting me. I wish I could forget him." She shook her head and laughed wearily, and Gojyo shook his head, too.

"Money this, money that." He sighed, sliding his hands deeper into his pockets. "Seems that's all anyone worries about."

"It's the root of all evil, some would say." Shunrei bit her lip again, turning her face towards the ground. "Don't you worry, too? About what will happen if you don't have enough to pay the tribute?"

"Nah, there are worse things. Tell you what, though." He took a swaggering step towards her. "You tell me the name of that evil man who traded a pretty thing like you for money, and if I ever cross paths with him, I'll really make him pay." He grinned, putting a peal of scandal in his tone, and Shunrei smiled a little.

"I'm afraid he's far away now, but his name was Jien."

Gojyo felt that name reverberate in his chest, felt it hit bottom like a rock falling into the abyss. "Jien, huh?"

"Mhm." Shunrei nodded, but didn't quite lift her chin to look Gojyo in the eye. "He was a good man. I do miss him; you remind me of him, too." She flashed her eyes over him, but Gojyo found himself too lost in his memories of that name.

"Yeah? You'll have to tell me about him some time." He glanced over his shoulder, and spotted Hakkai coming up the path towards them. "My friend's here. Some other time." He turned on his heel and jogged towards Hakkai, waving.

He still had Jien on his mind, so he knew he couldn't entirely mean the smile he wore for Hakkai as he approached him. He also completely missed Shunrei watching him leave from her place under the tree.

Hakkai had seen him approaching and had halted, a mild smile in place, but peering over Gojyo's shoulder to where Shunrei was turning for home. “Who was that?”

“Ah, that girl from the bar, remember? She was the one who carried me out.” Gojyo grinned sheepishly as he landed next to Hakkai on the path. Hakkai hummed a little, looking him up and down as if seeking something in or on him, but Gojyo tapped his elbow. “Let's get out of here, yeah? I'm starting to dry out already.”

“Already?” Hakkai managed a light chuckle as they turned on the road, dust rising in their wake. “Did I keep you waiting?”

"Yeah, a little, I was starting to wonder where you were." Gojyo found himself studying Hakkai now, because he smelled a little different, a little more like ocean, and there was sand on his shoes. "You get held up or something? Not bandits, was it?"

"Oh, no. Certainly not. If I'd been attacked on the road, you'd be able to tell." Hakkai put on a performative grin – Gojyo could tell, and it wasn't always so easy to tell when those smiles weren't real. "No, I was merely catching up with an old friend." Hakkai's voice wobbled on the word 'friend.' Gojyo knew there was something Hakkai wasn't saying.

Still, he had things he didn't want to talk about. He'd let Hakkai have his.

"Shoot, well, maybe take me along next time, eh? Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"Hm." It wasn't quite a laugh, but Hakkai looked amused, anyway. "We shall see. Tomorrow, I think I'd like to sell some of the last set of pearls you brought me. We're low on rice, and if you'd like, I can bring home and cook something you'll like."

"Ah, I like anything you cook." Gojyo shoved his hands back into his pockets. "It'll be damn hard to go back to tearing guts and scales off with my bare hands or a sharp stone now I've seen how easy you can take stuff apart with a good knife."

“A good knife makes easy cuts, you know?” Hakkai laughed a little, and fell into pace alongside Gojyo. Gojyo was watching him, though, and Hakkai had noticed. Even so, he kept his voice light as he told him, “Tomorrow, I think I'll sell some of the pearls I have, but I don't want to force you to walk all that way with your poor feet. I promise I'll work on your shoes tonight, but would you like anything from the market?”

“Anything you bring home is fine, y'know? I'm a simple kind of guy.” Gojyo chuckled a little, gaze running up and down him again. Hakkai smiled to himself.

“One would think you might be a little more high-maintenance, considering everything.”

“It doesn't take much to make me happy.” Gojyo faced forward again. “Water and good company, that's all.”

Hakkai hummed to himself, thinking, and certain Gojyo could tell he was thinking. “If only all things were so simple.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo's mouth eased into a sealed smile, and though Hakkai wondered what was going on behind that smirk and those keen eyes.

Still, Gojyo hadn't pressed him. He would return the favor.

* * *

Gojyo was with Goku again, and Hakkai trusted that he would be safe with him. He knew he only had himself to trust in as he walked to the market alone, pearls heavy in his pockets, but he refused to let that slow him for even a step. Instead, he walked all the way to the market and right to the same dealer he'd dealt with before. The old fellow had a gleam in his eye when Hakkai entered.

“Glad to see you around again! I'm actually seeing my jewelers more often, asking about those pearls.” He winked at Hakkai. “How goes your pearl diving, lad?”

Encouraged, Hakkai laid down the pile of pearls he'd brought, and the buyer happily sorted through them, humming a nonsense tune as he sorted them by size and examined them all. A few times, Hakkai heard him click his tongue.

“It's a shame some of these are tarnished, but the untrained eye wouldn't notice.”

“Tarnished?” Hakkai squinted over the table, then tried to rub some imagined grit from his eyes. The dealer hummed tonelessly.

“Yes; it could be from rough handling, or it could be natural, part of how they were formed.” The dealer held one of the pearls close to Hakkai's face, showing him a pinkish bruise on the opalescent surface. “You do know how pearls are formed, don't you, young fellow?”

“I've read that an oyster will get some irritant, like a grain of sand, caught in its muscle, and the pearl forms around the sand as the oyster tries to spit it out.”

“Is that what they teach the young folks these days?” The dealer clicked his tongue again. “Well, the old stories are being forgotten all the time, and the new stories... aye, well, I suppose it makes sense. In a way, it's the same.” The buyer set the pearl aside with another small pile of them, all a little bruised. “Pearls come from pain. It's to be expected that some will still show that pain.”

Pain, Hakkai mused as the dealer totaled his offer on an abacus. Hakkai was no stranger to it, knew that everything that lived suffered, but perhaps it was fair and right that pain felt elsewhere might have some benefit to him.

The buyer nicked away a few coins to make up for the tarnished pearls, but he was still walking away with more money than even before. "Bring me more soon, won't you?" He'd said as he pushed the stringed coins across his table to Hakkai, smiling with the same pleasance that pervaded his every phrase. "I'm starting to get a few regulars from the jewelers, and I'd hate not to have any of those if they pay me a visit."

"I hope to have more soon," Hakkai demurred with a quick bow, and wondering just how many the old man would be willing to buy at once, or if perhaps he should start spreading the wealth to other buyers.

He didn't buy very much else in the market, not wanting such a heavy load to take back when he expected he might be delayed: only a few kitchen staples and more dried reeds for repairing his father's old shoes for Gojyo. Enough to cover all the coin in the sack, no burden more than he needed, and already lighter than the pearls that had weighed him down as he'd walked here. The day was warm for fall, though not forbiddingly uncomfortable, but Hakkai felt chills down his spine as he walked on. He could almost sense someone observing him, as if there were eyes peering out from the gaps in every threadbare shrub on the roadside, but the day was clear, the sun bright, and outside of other people moving to and from the market, the road was quiet.

When he came close to Koushu's estate on the hill, however, a shadow was cast in his path, and not from the mountain. Kougaiji was waiting near the path down into the rushes, but this time with one of his bodyguards – or perhaps just another one of this thugs – at his side. Hakkai halted fifty paces back, squinting at the bodyguard. His distance vision was dismal, but this was the one who stood a head taller than Kougaiji and who always stood at his right shoulder. A favorite, perhaps. Either way, he stood with his arms crossed, a step behind Kougaiji, as ever, and Hakkai couldn't make out any weapons on him.

"Come closer." Kougaiji motioned to him, tone flat, expression serious. "You can't expect us to have a conversation shouting."

Never wishing to appear unreasonable, Hakkai approached, stopping at a more conversational distance, but he first bowed to Kougaiji's … bodyguard. "I'm afraid we haven't met."

The bodyguard (now distinguishable as a man a few years older than Hakkai or Kougaiji, with short, roughly cropped black hair and a gaunt, distinctive, handsome face with a familiarity Hakkai couldn't place) seemed a bit surprised, eyes going wide and flashing a questioning look at Kougaiji. Kougaiji subtly nodded, and the bodyguard bowed back, albeit not as low and with a hand over his breast. The sword sheathed at his hip rattled just a little, and Hakkai found his gaze drawn to it, too aware of it, until the bodyguard spoke: "I'm Dokugakuji. I'm Master Kougaiji's retainer."

"I'm Hakkai, a friend of his. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Hakkai quickly bowed his head again, locking eyes with Dokugakuji just long enough to read the scrutiny in his face. He had a feeling Dokugakuji already knew what Kougaiji was here to tell him, or perhaps knew worse things of him. Hakkai tried not to let it surprise him. Everyone in this town knew him too well.

Dokugakuji, to his credit, cleared his throat. "Uh. Pleasure's mine, I suppose." He glanced to Kougaiji, and Kougaiji caught his eye and nodded. Hakkai, however, turned his focus and a painfully taut smile to Kougaiji.

"I hadn't expected you would bring a companion. I suppose you feel unsafe meeting me alone?"

"Not entirely, but that is not his entire reason for accompanying me." Kougaiji glanced sideways at Dokugakuji again, before facing Hakkai. "I told him of you. He wanted to speak with you."

"Just a few questions," Dokugakuji added quickly, and Hakkai found himself drawn to focusing on him again, as Dokugakuji studied him with a frown. "I saw you at the collections. You were talking to a man with red hair that nobody recognizes."

Hakkai was instantly wary. "Ah." He didn't dare say more, too busy running everything through his head that could come of a single word he spoke. Dokugakuji seemed to sense Hakkai's tension, but met it with nonchalant ease.

"We don't see new people in town often, and I'm in charge of taking care of this town as much as Master Kougaiji. He a friend of yours? Staying with you?"

"I'm not certain why you'd want to know." Hakkai kept his arms folded tight to his chest. "Is he accused of some crime?"

"No, I just want to know who's coming and going. There aren't many people coming lately, you know?" Dokugakuji was clearly straining to maintain cordiality. Kougaiji touched his wrist, and though it didn't quell the strain in his smile, it touched off something in Hakkai's mind.

"Oh," he said aloud without meaning to, echoing the pang in his chest. Perhaps he'd known all along. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to know he'd been replaced. As if knowing they'd been made, Dokugakuji's smile finally slipped into more of a grimace.

"I just wanna know who the stranger is."

"He's harmless," Hakkai answered automatically. "Gojyo's just a traveler staying with me while he's passing through."

"Gojyo?" Dokugakuji's intrigue at the name only made the sense of unease Hakkai had been nursing swell, but he shook his head like a horse shrugging off a fly and grumbled under his breath. "That's all I needed to hear. Young Master, thank you for allowing me to speak."

"No need for such formalities." Kougaiji eyed Hakkai again, reflecting the same wariness Hakkai was trying to mask beneath a stoic smile. "We're all friends here, right? We all want the same thing: what's best for those around us."

"Very much so." Hakkai deliberately let Kougaiji distract him, though he had no intention of forgetting Dokugakuji's interrogation. Kougaiji grimaced when Hakkai locked eyes with him, but before Hakkai even dared ask:

"Eighty million." Kougaiji huffed and crossed his arms. "Ten years' worth of taxes. I told you it would be exorbitant. I know you thought, with your sudden windfall, you might stand a chance, but – "

"Will she accept installments?" Hakkai slid his hand down the side of his pants seam, feeling the coins heavy in his pocket. He would have thrown them at Kougaiji's feet, every last one. Kougaiji, however, shook his head.

"All at once."

Hakkai clenched his hand tight instead. "Fine, then. Have some patience." He moved to sidestep Kougaiji, but Kougaiji seized his shoulder.

"Hakkai, be reasonable."

"Reasonable? I'm being entirely reasonable," Hakkai answered mildly, before brushing Kougaiji's hand off. "She made her demand, and it is now on me to meet it, one way or another. If she gets what she wants and leaves this place in peace, we can both be satisfied."

"Hakkai." Kougaiji tried to grab at his collar again, but Hakkai eased a half-step back. "Hakkai, listen, that may have been what she said, but my stepmother is not the type to simply be satisfied.”

"Is that to say that I cannot trust you to hold her to her word?" Hakkai fixed Kougaiji with a querying glance, an eyebrow raised, pretending curiosity rather than challenge, but from Kougaiji's flinch, he'd taken that like a slap in the face. He groaned and smeared his palm down his face.

"I beg of you, as a friend – take what money you have and leave."

Hakkai held his ground. "Is that truly what you want for me? Or would you rather I simply be as far from you as possible?" He stepped back again, bowing as he did. "I'll oblige to an extent, but you know why I want to stay here."

Even as he about-faced and tried to suss out all the numbers in his head, he couldn't ignore Kougaiji's icy retort: "The same reason you should leave."

Hakkai held his head high and walked away without looking back. Even if seeing Kougaiji standing alongside another man had made something in his heart burn, even if Kougaiji's last barb stung in places Hakkai didn't know could hurt, he at least had an idea of how to keep walking the path he was on.

* * *

 

Gojyo had gotten used to the sight of the gnarled old tree where he met Hakkai when they were apart. He knew its knots and grooves pretty well. So, standing around waiting for him could no longer be occupied by vacant thoughts of how long the tree had been there or why it looked like that, questions he wanted to ask Hakkai. He just didn't like feeling stupid. Instead, he focused on looking over all the scrapes and scratches on his hands and arms from the day in the orchards. Even carrying the basket of vegetables he'd been given had put little cuts on his fingers. He was starting to get used to getting beat up a little. “The water'll feel good on it later,” he said to himself, turning his hands over. Some of the scrapes were still bleeding sluggishly. Gojyo licked one of them, and grimaced at the taste of his own blood. “Damn. Well, if I gotta swim, then I should ask Hakkai if he wants –”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Shunrei peered around the tree, and Gojyo started, then cleared his throat and grinned.

“Oh! Evenin', Shunrei. I didn't hear ya comin'.”

“Sorry; you did seem lost in thought.” She set down the basket of laundry she was carrying and laced her fingers. Gojyo could see her fidgeting a little anyway, both looking at him and not looking at him, and trying hard not to make eyes at him. “Are you always here?”

“Seems I have been, lately, since my buddy's been leaving me behind to handle stuff.” Gojyo stuffed his hands in his pockets, glanced down the road, then looked her up and down once. “I, uh, guess you kinda know what that's like.”

“Ah...” Shunrei hesitated, turning her focus down to her basket. “You mean Jien, right? It really is strange, how much you remind me of him...”

“Yeah.” Gojyo bit his lip. “Uh, what was he like? When you knew him.”

Shunrei seemed surprised at this, eyebrows raising. “Oh, er...” She fidgeted a little again, but at least she was making eye contact. “Why do you ask?”

“Curious who my competition is around here, y'know?” Gojyo played it off with a little laugh. “Come on, tell me.”

“Er...” She glanced down, then shook her head. “He's... he's nothing like you. No competition.” She managed a little smile and batted her eyelashes at him. “I'm not sure why you're asking about someone so long gone, when you're here now.”

Gojyo laughed. “Well, sweetie, I gotta say –”

“Gojyo?” Hakkai was on the path, squinting a little into the sun, but as Gojyo turned to face him, he could clearly see disappointment in his expression. Gojyo broke away from Shunrei and grabbed his basket.

“Hey, there you are! I was just makin' conversation with Miss Shunrei here while I was waiting.” He jumped down the hill to the path, grimacing as his feet made impact on the rough road. Hakkai was still staring at Shunrei, then between him and Shunrei. Then, he sighed and put on a smile Gojyo knew was forced.

“You can make conversation with whosoever you wish. Please, don't mind my surprise. Were you hungry?”

“Hungry enough to eat a whole damn carp by myself, yeah!” Gojyo grinned with relief, and began to walk alongside Hakkai. Hakkai glanced over his shoulder a few times, watching Shunrei take up her basket and leave in the opposite direction, head hung low, leaving him alone with Gojyo, the dying sunlight, and the sea salt in the air. “But, hey, check it!” Gojyo held his basket out for Hakkai to see. “The guy giving out payment today said they had a whole bunch of extra onions and eggplants, and I gotta say, I knew you all had eggs around here, but I had no idea you planted 'em –”

“Gojyo.” Hakkai lowered his voice, then eyed him carefully one more time. Something still burned in his heart, something still ached in him, and the knowledge was as plain as daylight, despite his cursed eyes:

_You can't keep him, either._

“I need to ask a tremendous favor of you.” He stopped in the middle of the path and caught Gojyo by the arm. “I need you to bring me as many pearls as you can.”

Gojyo gaped. “Wait, what? I thought you said –”

“I'm afraid I've changed my mind.” Hakkai put on a smile. “As many as you can, as fast as you can. I'll take care of you during the day, of course, but I'd really like your help. Can you do that for me?”

Gojyo studied him, then slowly nodded. “Whatever you say. I said I'd help ya, an' all.” He tucked his hands back into his pockets. “I was gonna swim tonight anyway.”

“I do hope the water doesn't get cold too quickly.” Hakkai wanted to say more, so much more, but he didn't trust himself. As much as he hated the idea, if the only way he could get what he wanted was by exploiting Gojyo's talents, then so be it.

If Gojyo hated him in the end, then that was a fate he would suffer. Without this, he was certain his fate would be unimaginably worse.

 


	16. Into and Out of the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai has finally taken Gojyo up on his offer, determined to make his goal no matter the cost...

**16: Into and Out of the Ocean**

Hakkai had given Gojyo a leather satchel the evening before, and asked him to fill it. Then, he went to sleep alone on the mat, listening to the waves.

Hakkai woke with the dawn to see Gojyo walking up the shore with the satchel in hand. Hakkai greeted him at the door, and Gojyo opened the pouch to show it was loaded with pearls, and displayed a dazzling grin and motioned for Hakkai to turn around. Hakkai looked over his shoulder to see a significant pile on the table.

“I filled and emptied the bag twice.” Gojyo set the pouch down next to the rest of his haul, as Hakkai covered his mouth in surprise.

“That's... that's tremendous, you've done wonderfully.” He gathered his wits, then turned around to Gojyo and bowed. “You've worked hard today, thank you. Would you rather eat or rest?” He sounded like a paymaster. Perhaps he was, now. Gojyo pulled a face and slid his gaze down towards the floor.

“Mm. Sleep. Been out all night, y'know?” He put on another big grin, and Hakkai nodded.

“Of course. I left the mat out for you, and there's porridge in the pot if you wake hungry.” Hakkai stepped aside and took his jacket from the peg by the door, and Gojyo's gaze followed him this time.

“Oh, were ya goin'?”

“I'd like to put traps out now that you're safely in, then I'll go to work for the day. After all, pearls don't fill one's stomach.” Hakkai couldn't quite look at him as he put his jacket on. “I appreciate your hard work, though. Rest assured, they'll be put to good use.” He returned to the trove of pearls Gojyo had come up with and gathered them, then poured them into an old basket, one he could easily hide under Mother's old clothes. He would soon need more baskets and more hiding places, he surmised, but that was a bridge he could cross when he came to it.

Gojyo had already limped over to the futon and tumbled into it, throwing the quilt over his face, and had gone still. Hakkai observed him a moment longer, then sighed and tugged an askew corner over his bare foot. The sole of Gojyo's foot was torn up already, bloody in a few places, scraped and scratched from the dock and the hard floor. He patted the blanket over him as gently as possible, and resolved to finish Gojyo's shoes, and soon.

He left Gojyo there without another word to him. When he returned in the evening, the bed was empty, quilt and mat left in a rumpled heap. Hakkai peeked into the rain barrel and found Gojyo asleep there, hair drifting languidly around his face like a cloud of blood. Hakkai pushed the strands around in the water, careful not to touch Gojyo's face to avoid waking him. He still looked exhausted, face wrought and tight as if in nightmare. Hakkai wanted to wake him, to bring him in, to tell him to stay in with him. He glanced to the porridge pot and saw the congee all congealed in the bottom, and he immediately felt an aching need to feed and nurture him. But no. Hakkai instead eased the lid back onto the barrel and went to freshen the porridge. A few fish and a little stock would make a perfectly serviceable stew, and perhaps when Gojyo woke, he'd be hungry for it.

When Gojyo did wake, Hakkai had already put a bowl out for him and settled in with one of his books. Gojyo first peered in the window, and Hakkai pretended to ignore him dripping onto his counter, but then Hakkai heard him clambering out, swearing under his breath, and he lumbered into the house through the front door, still shaking his hair out. Hakkai glanced over his naked form once, then tore his eyes away, back to his book. “Good evening. You were tired, weren't you?”

“Um, yeah. Pretty fuckin' wiped.” Gojyo grinned sheepishly and took the bowl. He shoveled it in quickly; Hakkai imagined that this was the first he'd eaten since the night before, so he chose to say nothing about his table manners.

“I imagine you're hungry now, as well. There's plenty more, unless you're worried it'll be harder to swim on a full stomach.”

Gojyo paused a moment in eating and lifted his eyes to look up at Hakkai. “Uh, you wanted me to go out again?”

“If it's not too much trouble.” Hakkai stared down at the page as hard as he could. “I would very much appreciate it if you can.”

“Okay.” Gojyo stared mulishly into his bowl. “Yeah. If that's what you want, I'll do it.”

“Thank you, Gojyo.” Hakkai rose and bowed as deep as he ever would to any prince. “I cannot express my gratitude any more sincerely.”

“Nah, save it. It comes natural to me, y'know?” He took a few more bites of porridge, then stood, wiping his mouth on the back of is hand. “I'll get started. Got plenty to do, I guess.” He rose abruptly, leaving the half-empty bowl behind him. Hakkai refused to watch Gojyo walk away, down to the shore, into the water again to resume his search. Hakkai wished there were more he could do, but he was reliant on Gojyo for this.

He wished Gojyo could just stay in with him, spend the evening with him, drink tea and play games until it was too dark to see, then fall asleep while searching for the gleam of the starlight where it wove through his brilliant hair. However, he knew it would be fruitless, pointless: it was pointless to pretend he could keep Gojyo, pointless to imagine he had any hope for anything other than this.

He just needed Gojyo's help for as long as he could keep him.

* * *

Gojyo continued to fish for pearls in the evenings, as Hakkai worked in the rice fields or in the orchards by day. Every morning, Gojyo would present Hakkai with more pearls, Hakkai would thank and praise him, offer him food and solace, and walk away more miserable than the day before as Gojyo slept off the night's efforts. He hadn't spoken to Gojyo much outside of these exchanges, and soon Hakkai began to feel as lonesome as if he wasn't speaking to anyone at all, as if he hadn't in years.

It was a week after Hakkai began the big push to collect money that he encountered Goku again, who grinned to see him and waved from across the rows, but when the sun began to set, earlier than the day before, Goku caught up with him as they walked away from the paymaster, rice in hand.

"Hey, it's been a while!"

"It has, hasn't it?" Hakkai managed a wan smile. It wasn't that he'd been avoiding Goku, but now that he was face to face with him again, he was unsure of what to say. Luckily, Goku rarely came up short for words.

"You been okay? Eating and sleeping alright and stuff? You got bags under your eyes!" Goku gestured to indicate the deep-set grey lines that Hakkai knew lay there.

"Well enough, I suppose. It's getting colder." It had, even if it was no excuse for Hakkai's general sense of malaise. Even with the daily excitement of receiving pearls every morning, he still felt restless and discontent. Goku didn't seem to pick up on what Hakkai wasn't saying this time, pulling a pinched face and humming a little.

"Yeah, it's always kinda miserable when it gets like this, just 'cause you know the lean season's coming, and all. But I've been stocking up plenty of rice!" He gave Hakkai's arm a little punch. "Have you been pickling fish and stuff? I got a whole bunch of preserved turnips hanging out -- at least I hope I do, I think I got 'em right this time -- we can totally swap and share!"

"That sounds like a good arrangement." Hakkai listlessly turned for home without thinking, and Goku fell in next to him.

"I guess you'll need twice as much this year, too! Or I guess all the you-know-what Gojyo's found can help carry the two of ya." Hakkai felt something in him quiver like a thin tree in a sharp breeze when Goku alluded to the pearls. Goku seemed to miss Hakkai's discomfort at that, too. "Where's he been, anyway? I haven't seen him around much, I've missed my tall tree-climbin' partner! He stinks at climbing, but he's got longer arms than me!"

"Goodness, now; one can't judge a fish by how he climbs a tree, just like one can't judge a monkey by how he can swim." Hakkai felt somehow compelled to defend Gojyo's honor, even as he hung his head. "I've asked Gojyo a favor in that regard. He's ... er ... helping in the way he can help best, I suppose."

"Oh. So, he's not coming back to the fields?" Now Goku sounded a little suspicious, or perhaps Hakkai was merely paranoid. “Is he around? Can I go visit him?”

“I'm not certain he'll be home. He's been sleeping during the day and working, so to speak, by night.” Hakkai bit his lip, but Goku was still walking alongside of him. “But if you would like to visit, I would welcome the company.”

He'd been inclined to reject him, but the house was just too quiet lately.

Then, when they passed Sen Sou on the road, Hakkai saw his eyes move under his basket between the pair of them, and then he wound up, taking a big breath. Hakkai spoke before he could: “Would you like to come for dinner?”

Sen Sou deflated, eyes narrowing. “Perhaps I've become too predictable.”

“Well, yeah, you kind of have a thing.” Goku grinned and held a hand out to him. “But what's really important is that you're hungry.”

“I'm certain my traps will be full enough to share.” Hakkai chose not to mention that he hadn't seen the pot too empty to share, because Gojyo wasn't finishing his portions or going for the seconds Hakkai wanted to offer. Sen Sou merely hurried to his feet, muttering about 'not going to beg if I don't have to,' and Goku cheerfully bounded at his side, asking after him to muttered replies. It was comfortable, familiar, and yet Hakkai couldn't find the familiar solace in these moments. It felt incomplete.

Hakkai led them down to his home and brought in his traps. He kept a wary eye on the horizon, looking for Gojyo, but there was no sign of him anywhere, not even a distant splash. Hakkai cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “We have company! You should come in and visit!” There was no response, so Hakkai dragged in the fish he'd found and went to work putting the meal together.

Goku was his same cheerful self, but Hakkai could sense Sen Sou watching him, feeling his gaze on the back of his neck. He wondered if Sen Sou had sensed that something was amiss, but he had no intention of explaining anything, even if Sen Sou did snoop around and find the basket of pearls. It didn't mean Hakkai wasn't on edge as he worked, nor that he didn't jump a little when the front door opened.

Gojyo stood, hair wet but dressed, and empty-handed. He winked at Hakkai and flashed him a little smile, then stumbled in and sank down to sit alongside Goku. “Long time, no see, kid.”

Goku was gaping. Sen Sou was wide-eyed. Goku was the first to say anything: “Whoa, you look like you've been to hell an' back!”

“Huh?” Gojyo scratched his head a little, and Hakkai glanced over his shoulder. Whatever it was they were seeing, he'd somehow missed. Gojyo rose and went to the window and poked his head over the rain barrel. “Uh. Been working hard, I guess.”

“You look like you haven't slept or eaten,” Sen Sou growled. “What the hell have you been doing?”

“Um.” Gojyo turned around again, rubbing at his face, and Hakkai stilled, listening keenly. “Helpin' Hakkai. He asked. I ate when I was done, and all...”

Sen Sou turned his gaze onto Hakkai, glowering, but Hakkai hurriedly filled four bowls. “Gojyo, please, sit, eat.” He set Gojyo's bowl at the place where he usually sat. “He's been asleep during the day and waking in the evenings, you're just groggy because you're still waking, aren't you?”

“Mm.” Gojyo's mouth twitched as he looked down into the bowl. “This looks good, thanks.” There was no lightness in his voice, none of his usual color or warmth. He instead began to eat quickly without looking up. Hakkai felt a pang in his chest and winced, but brought Sen Sou and Hakkai their dishes.

The meal was completely silent and devoid of the happiness Hakkai usually found in these precious moments.

Gojyo left the house again after Hakkai finished, but his bowl was barely touched. The moment Gojyo muttered his 'gonna go, g'night, guys,' Goku cleared his portion in one big wolf and chased him out the front door. Hakkai moved after both of them, but Sen Sou rose and snatched him by the collar.

“You. Explain.”

“It's as he said.”

“Out with it straight, damn you!”

Hakkai grabbed Sen Sou's wrist and forced him to release his grip, but Sen Sou stepped towards him, forcing him back and cornering him in his kitchen. “He's a source of good fortune. You've noticed that, haven't you? I've merely asked him to do deliberately what he had been doing voluntarily.”

“He looks like he's halfway to the pyre, damn your eyes!” Sen Sou was seething, practically spitting through the basket. “Surely you can see even that much!”

“He knows himself best.” Hakkai stood his ground, if only because Sen Sou couldn't back him up any further. “If he needs to stop, for his own self-preservation, he will.”

“Will he?” Sen Sou sneered. “You asked him to wring himself out like this, and you think he'll stop for his own sake.”

“I'd stop him if I felt I must, but he knows himself best.” Hakkai pursed his lips and steeled himself, holding himself to his convictions like a sailor tying himself to a mast in dangerous waters. “I have no better way of bringing in money. He can bring it in easily, or if not easily, in a way that comes naturally to him.” Those were the words Gojyo had used, but Hakkai felt sick repeating him. “I have a plan – I might be able to save the town –”

“No scheme you have can be worth whatever you're doing to him.” Sen Sou drew himself up, glowering through his mask. “I thought he was the demon.” He about-faced and stormed out, and Hakkai collapsed back against the counter, chest aching.

Outside, Goku had grabbed Gojyo by the hand as he hurried out to the docks again. “Hey, man, what's goin' on?”

“Hakkai asked me to get him as many pearls as I could get.” He managed a wan smile without fully turning to face Goku. “I think I'm doin' a good job. You think it'll make him happy again soon?”

“What?” Goku's eyes widened. “He asked – he didn't ask before?”

“No, but he did now. Something happened.” Gojyo furrowed his brow. “Something changed. I dunno, he saw me talking to a girl, and …” As if he'd just realized something himself, he grimaced. “Maybe he's mad. He's been weird, since he asked. He still acts all nice, but it feels fake.” He turned his face over his shoulder. “I dunno. I want to make him happy again. Y'think if I get him enough, he'll like me again?”

“Gojyo …” Goku shook his head slowly. “I'll try to talk to him. There's gotta be something we're missing here.”

Sen Sou burst out of the front door just then, and Gojyo broke away from Goku. “It's okay. Maybe he's just making sure I'm pulling my weight. That's what's important, ain't it?” Gojyo inhaled deep. “Go on with him. I better get back to work.”

Goku watched, frowning, as Gojyo walked to the end of the dock and sat down. He realized Gojyo was waiting for Sen Sou to leave, and turned to meet him. “I gotta ask Hakkai about it,” he mumbled to Sen Sou. Sen Sou merely shook his head.

“For someone I know to be intelligent, he can be such a moron.” Sen Sou glared out towards Gojyo's back and the rising moon, then pivoted towards the path. “Find out what Hakkai is planning. Whatever it is, I have a bad feeling about it.”

“Yeah,” Goku murmured, because even he couldn't deny that ominous sense that even beyond the obvious, something was wrong.

For a moment, he could have sworn he saw eyes peering through the seagrass along the path to the main road. He halted in place a moment, gazing around, until Sen Sou whistled.

“Don't just stand around, come on!”

“Sorry!” Goku jogged to catch up, still watching over his shoulder, to Gojyo, to whatever was lurking behind them, and fell in place a step behind Sen Sou again. Sen Sou was quiet for a few minutes as Goku followed him, but spoke as they neared Goku's hut in the village.

“Watch over him.” He stopped and faced Goku, then put a hand on his shoulder. His fingers were shaking a little, and Goku's heart leapt. “You see much more than many do.”

“Sen...” Goku hoped Sen Sou couldn't see him going pink in the cheeks in the dark. “I...” He halted, wishing he could tell Sen Sou what he knew without betraying Hakkai's trust. “I'll try to find out what he's trying to do, but –”

“Whatever he has in mind, it could hurt many people outside of just himself.” Sen Sou turned his gaze pointedly around at all of the other run-down homes in the middle of the village, the dim lights, the wind-battered roofs. “Worse, he's going down a dark path for himself. Someone needs to make him see the light and drag him back towards the direction he needs to be going.”

“Yeah.” Goku nodded a little, thinking. “I'll try. Hey, um ...” Goku swallowed, and tugged the elbow of Sen Sou's sleeve. “Come in, won'cha? It's cold out here, and you should have a roof over your hear.”

Sen Sou let his hand fall from Goku's shoulder, then subtly inclined his head. “Don't complain if I snore, then.” He went towards Goku's door, and Goku took one last look around outside.

He could still sense he was being watched, and he knew he saw someone move into the shadow of another house as Sen Sou opened his door and went inside. He mulishly sucked in his lower lip, then cracked his knuckles, fingers into opposite palm. “I'm sure you'll be as quiet as a mouse,” he said aloud, then followed him in.

He wasn't going to let himself worry too much, but he wasn't going to play around, either. There was definitely something wrong here, and he was going to seek it out and fix it.

* * *

Hakkai couldn't rest with regret in his heart. Once he heard Sen Sou and Goku going up the path to return to town, he abandoned his half-hearted attempt to do the washing to go outside to see Gojyo, still sitting on the dock, feet dangling down into the water. He tiptoed up behind him, because he thought he heard Gojyo talking to himself and wanted to listen, but the dock creaked under him and Gojyo turned around.

“Oh. Hey.” He smiled, a pale expression like weak tea, and stood, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Somethin' up?”

“No.” Hakkai shook his head emphatically, but kept his distance. “Merely, I felt rather badly after what Goku said. I didn't notice that you were exhausted.” A chill fall wind swept over them just then, tossing Gojyo's hair over his face. Hakkai longed to push it back behind his ears, but laced his fingers in front of his chest to keep from reaching out for him. “I thought I would offer my assistance. I can row out with you so you can surface and rest more often instead of having to come to shore every time your arms tire –”

For some reason, Gojyo was already shaking his head. “Hey, so, that's real considerate and all, but –”

“I've asked a great deal of you, and all for my own sake. Please, let me help.”

“No way.” Gojyo crossed his arms and tucked his chin a little. “It's pretty easy to get hurt in the deep if you ain't careful. You can't dive as deep as I can, and even if you could, it's dangerous down there. Plus, even if you stay in the boat, you could still get hurt.” He set his jaw. “I still remember last time I saw you row out too far.”

Hakkai hoped Gojyo didn't see him flinch in the dark. “I promise I'll stay in the boat this time. I can bring out food, in case you're hungry in the night.”

“No, look, that's nice and all, but I can eat in the ocean and you know it.” Gojyo's hands tightened on his forearms. “I don't want you seeing my diving spots, okay? The less people know where I'm going, the better.”

Hakkai felt a sting of surprise. “I'd never tell anyone.”

“Yeah, but those creeps that kept messing with ya, they might try and work it out of ya.” Gojyo gestured vaguely, before folding his arms tight again. “If you don't know where I'm getting the pearls, then nobody else can. I'm okay out here, okay?”

“May I at least stand watch for a while?” Hakkai wanted to grow roots into this spot. He wanted to do something, anything. Again, Gojyo shook his head.

“If you're just gonna stand there and watch, then I'm not gonna go.” He hung his head a little lower, but Hakkai could tell he was scowling. “It's better this way.”

Hakkai's breast ached with longing. He could feel the edge of hard anger in Gojyo now, as sharp as the wrong curve of his scales, and he stepped back. “If you're sure. I'll go in then. Best of luck tonight.” He turned slowly, not wanting to tear his eyes away but not having a choice.

Pointless. It was so pointless. Like trying to brace against a tidal wave, like trying to stop a hailstorm, like trying to tell Kanan she shouldn't or couldn't do something.

* * *

 

Hakkai slept restlessly until he heard the distinctive splash of Gojyo tumbling into the rain barrel. He didn't sleep long after that, as dawn peered over the horizon into a misty, chilly morning littered by clouds. Hakkai rose, keenly aware of the aches in his bones, and threw together a quick breakfast. He avoided catching Gojyo's hair as he took a ladleful of water from the barrel, then turned to study him as the water came to a boil. Gojyo was magnified in the water, and Hakkai noticed thin scratches down his arms and on his hands. He winced, remembering what Gojyo said about how dangerous it was in the deeps.

“It's dangerous for you too, isn't it? I wouldn't accept this behavior of myself, there's no reason I should allow it of you.” He reached a hand into the water, but stopped just short of running his hand over Gojyo's face.

His heartstrings twisted, tight enough to choke him for a moment.

In a fit of despair, Hakkai marched out and around the house, then bodily hauled Gojyo out of the barrel. Gojyo roused and muddily mumbled something incoherent as Hakkai, grunting and heaving for his efforts, dragged Gojyo into the house. He eased him down onto the mat, then went for poultice and bandages.

Gojyo drifted off again in mere moments, sprawled on the mat with his hair drying around him, as Hakkai made quick work of cleaning, drying off and patching all of the wounds on Gojyo's arms and chest. Gojyo seemed to have injuries everywhere, which was odd. “The water should have healed these for you,” he murmured as he wrapped Gojyo's foot with the gauze. He glanced to the old scars on Gojyo's cheek, and briefly wondered why those had never healed either. Instead of asking a man who was clearly in need of rest more than company, Hakkai merely pulled the quilt up around him.

It took a physical effort not to lean down and kiss him on the cheek.

Instead, Hakkai rose and peered in the basket in his mother's closet. It was full and heavy, almost too heavy for him to lift alone. It was time to see some fruit from Gojyo's labor, if nothing else.

Resigned, Hakkai took one last longing glance at Gojyo where he lay, then went to get Goku. He would need the help to bear this particular burden, and he'd already asked far too much of Gojyo.


	17. Seeing Through The Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku makes an effort to help Hakkai in an unexpected way, and Hakkai starts to get a little more perspective.

**17: Seeing Through The Glass**

Hakkai wished it was realistic to trust only the dealer Sen Sou had recommended, because he had been trustworthy. However, he knew it couldn't be so. Instead, he went to him first and doled out only a portion of the pearls from the basket Goku was carrying. The old man laughed and clapped his hands together.

"My, my, you've been very successful! Let me see, let me see..."

Goku hadn't minded carrying the basket of pearls, covered with some scraps of fabric Hakkai had used to make or mend clothes, not even when he told him what was in it, nor even when he had to bite down on his own hand to keep from shouting about it when Hakkai had showed him its contents: "All those?!" Hakkai hadn't been certain if his surprise sourced from wonderment or horror, but now, he was mildly observing as the jeweler examined each pearl, swaying a little and shifting his weight from foot to foot, as he held the basket in both hands in front of himself. Curiously, the old jeweler began to sort the pearls into three piles now. Hakkai hardly had to ask why, however; when he leaned close, he could see the gradient in their colors.

"Your success is great," the jeweler remarked, "But your luck worse." He indicated the pile on the darker end of the gradient: the smallest pile, but still sizeable. "These are all rather severely tarnished. However, I'll still buy them; they'll still be good ground into makeup or salves, for medicine – if you believe legends, I heard of an ancient queen who crushed pearls into her wine and drank them."

"I believe enough legends," Hakkai murmured, "But I admit I am more interested in knowledge. Were they handled poorly?" Goku immediately stopped shifting his weight, but the old jeweler chortled.

"No, no, they're too resilient to bruise. It's merely luck, so they say." The jeweler set a few more pearls in the middle pile, what Hakkai presumed meant they were "slightly tarnished." "Some say that if the oyster hurts too much, it'll clamp down around the pearl and try to crush it, but I'm not certain oysters are that smart."

“Is there a way to stop it, maybe?” Goku cocked his head, blinking curiously at the pearls as the jeweler went on sorting them.

“Only luck, dear boy. Perhaps if you find less pearls, you'll find less tarnished specimens.” The jeweler set the last gleaming pearl in the good pile. “Still, this will satisfy my buyers for months! I do hope you've room in your grocery basket there for your payment!”

Hakkai had never seen so many strings of coins in a single place at one time. He hardly dared count them, even as the jeweler took a few coins off of the last string. “I can't pay as much for the tarnished ones, but it'll still keep you warm and fed through the winter, my boy.”

“It's way more than that!” Goku was gaping too, and Hakkai couldn't remember if he'd taught Goku to count as high as the number of coins stacked up on the counter. Hakkai laid the coins in the basket, then covered them with the cloth quickly before the jeweler had a chance to see how many pearls were still in the basket.

Hakkai wasn't even certain he could count how many pearls Gojyo had given him, and he had many, many more to sell.

First, he circled the roads near the jeweler Sen Sou had recommended and found three more dealers who would buy. Their prices per pearl, or per gram of pearl, varied from man to man, but every time Hakkai laid pearls on their counter, they sorted and separated them by quality. Every time, there was a frown at one of the sets, dull or misshapen pearls, and a mutter of, "These are tarnished, no good for jewelry," but they still paid, strings upon strings of coins.

Hakkai then circled a little wider, spreading his wares around to eight jewelers and dealers, until finally the basket was emptied of pearls and loaded with coins. Hakkai did manage to count those, string by string, thousand by thousand.

Four million coins. _Forty million yuan._ He was halfway there.

Hakkai should have been happier. Instead, he could only look at all the coins Goku was carrying with a sense of grim satisfaction. "It'll be done soon," he remarked, partially to himself, partially to Goku.

"What?"

"The money." Hakkai nodded, then glanced away. "For the town, for the collections." Goku was too sharp for an outright lie, but a half-truth might pass.

Sure enough, Goku examined Hakkai for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I figured that was what this was for.” He glanced down, tilting his head as if he could see under the scrap fabric covering the basket's contents. “I dunno, it looks like way more than Kougaiji ever asks for!" Goku hefted the basket in his arms, testing its weight. "Feels like it, too!"

"Perhaps, but then, I'm certain I can find some good use for whatever is left over. If I can lift the burden from everyone, even if for a time, then perhaps the town can get better, or at least stay afloat." He thought for a moment, then pulled a handful of coins off of one of the broken strings. "Here; you should know for certain that at least some of this is going towards a good cause in the immediate future." He held them out to Goku. "I want you to take these, and do whatever you like with them."

Goku gasped, eyes going huge and wide like golden coins in their own right, and he set the basket down to let Hakkai pour a small pile of silver coins into his palms. “For me? Really?”

“You've been a huge help. It would be much more difficult for me to carry that load by myself, and I know you're dependable if we should meet bandits on the road.” He smiled sheepishly and admitted “Besides, I'll likely have to ask for your help again, so I'll have to ensure you're justly compensated for your assistance.”

“Aw, come on!” Goku laughed, but he tucked the coins into his pocket. “I'd help ya whether or not you were gonna give me anything back for it – not that I'm ungrateful, but we're friends, so I'd help you either way!”

“Never let it be said I don't appreciate you.” He motioned for Goku to cover the basket's contents again, and he quickly did, then picked it back up. Hakkai nodded with approval at the obvious effort it took ox-strong Goku to lift it all. “Hopefully, we'll only have to do one more run like this, but I'm afraid we may need to find a few more or different buyers.” His face heated a bit to think of it. “It's riskier, but I doubt any of those I just visited will take more pearls anytime soon.”

“So, that's really what you're doing? Just getting and selling as many pearls as you can to help the town?” Goku raised an eyebrow at him, and though Hakkai felt a pang in his chest, he didn't sense malice.

“It's for the best. At least in this, I have some power to do something.” Hakkai sucked on the inside of his cheeks for a moment. “I want to protect my home, in whatever way I can. Truth be told, I'll be happier to see this money gone. It'll mean the end of our troubles, I hope.”

“That'll make you happy, huh?” Goku knit his eyebrows together, still studying Hakkai. “Are you sure?”

Hakkai turned his face away from Goku, pretending to be looking around the marketplace as they walked through. “I think so.”

“There's nothing that'd make you happier, maybe? You could go to school with this money, easy –”

“Goku, I believe we've spoken of this before.”

“Yeah, but I still don't like what you're saying.” Goku shrugged, the coins jingling a little in the basket. “Is there maybe something else that might make you happy?”

Hakkai heaved a sigh and stopped walking. “How can anyone be happy when we must live the way we do? We work like slaves and gain nothing, and lose more all the time.”

“Well, not all the time.” Goku halted alongside him, facing him as the crowds parted around them. “But there's stuff that does make me happy.” He cocked his head, turning his gaze homewards and smiling wistfully. “Like, when we're all sitting around together, talking and stuff? Or just being around you, or Sen Sou, or Gojyo. That makes me happy.”

Hakkai's heartstrings twisted again. “Ah.” He thought back to the night before, of how lifeless and quiet Gojyo had been, how preferable it was to hear him laughing and joking, to see him smiling. “Those times are nice.” He didn't dare say he missed those moments, how he would miss those moments. Saying it aloud would only make it all the more apparent.

“Yeah.” Goku glanced down to the basket, giving it another shake. “See, I know money doesn't buy happiness. It's not about what you have, but what ya do with it.”

“Money can help, of course.”

“Oh, sure it can! Like that!” Goku pointed at something, and Hakkai turned and squinted to see Goku indicating a shop with a strange symbol of an eye over its sign. “That! Those! See, Sen Sou complains that his eyes hurt when he does calligraphy, because he has to look so close at it, and it gives him headaches so bad he can't think, which is why he can't do it every day! But I heard they sell special things in shops like that that make it easier to see, so he can do calligraphy more when he wants! Then, he can be happy, and that'll make me happy!”

“Ah.” Hakkai suddenly understood much more about Sen Sou. “No wonder he seems to be in so foul a mood so often; that's terribly kind of you.” He also found himself appreciating Goku all that much more.

“Yeah.” Goku nodded a few times as Hakkai squinted at the sign again. “You know...” He shifted the basket to his hip and grabbed Hakkai by the wrist. “Don't you have trouble seeing too?”

Somehow, in a matter of seconds, Goku was dragging Hakkai to the optometry shop. In moments, Hakkai was in the doctor's chair, and having some great apparatus of metal and glass put over his head. The doctor declared him “nearsighted,” and then planted a pair of thin oval metal frames filled with curved glass on his nose, saying, “Isn't that better?”

Hakkai had never seen the world so clearly. He could see every scratch on the coins Goku paid the doctor, every thin line in his fingertips, every dying leaf on the distant trees. It wasn't better, but a thrill ran through him as he realized that this was what the world looked like, terrible and beautiful all.

He'd spent so long straining to see he hadn't realized how poor his vision had been. How little he'd seen, how much he'd missed.

Hakkai could barely focus on the path home, even as Goku laughed about how “money is kind of good for something!” He was stumbling a little on his feet as he adjusted to seeing everything clearly and not having to compensate for feeling his way forward. Every pebble, every rock, he had only felt them under his shoe and registered them later. He could see each blades of grass, the grooves in the path driven in by rain, the texture in the bark of every tree, every plucky head of the moss on the rocks. He could see that the signs had writing on them now. He very nearly felt like he was learning to walk again, as the world was unveiled to him anew.

Then, he got to town and saw, truly saw, just what his hometown looked like. His distant memories of Cheng'du from his childhood suddenly felt colder than ever. He could see the old grooves from the fishmonger's carts driven into the dirt roads, long abandoned, eroding away. The strings where paper lanterns were hung were blackened with dust, rotting in disuse. However, what Hakkai now saw clearer than ever was the expressions on every face he passed. He recalled every name, but none of the faces were what he had seen, who he had known. The old man who'd made dumplings for the festivals had a hollow, distant look in his eyes, and his ribs stuck through his shirt over his hollow belly. The women who once circled the well and gossiped now barely dared to look at one another in the street. Were this many windows always broken? Were the streets always this empty?

Hakkai had seen it, but it hadn't registered because it had never been so starkly clear. The basket Goku handed off to him as he reached his front door was heavy with coins meant to save this place, Kanan's home, but was there anything left to save? Even if he did save this town from Koushu, what would he have actually accomplished?

Goku's question haunted him again as he shut his front door behind him, the clack of wood touching stone echoing in Hakkai's head like those words in his ears: _“That'll make you happy? Are you sure?”_

He didn't know. Gojyo had asked the same question, and Hakkai had been more than certain of his answers then, but if anyone asked him now if what he thought he wanted would make him happy, he wouldn't know. Hakkai usually found such surprises as the unknown to be irksome, but now, it was only painful.

* * *

 

Hakkai walked the path back to his home by himself, smelling the salt air and feeling the wind through his hair. He could see the ocean under the setting autumn sun, looking bigger and broader than it ever had, reflecting the pink sky against the ink-black of the deeps, the water's surface peaked with snow-white capped waves as the tide ebbed into the cay. As well as he knew this path, he still felt lost, as if he'd never been here before. Even despite seeing it again as it truly was for the first time he could recall, Hakkai only recognized his own home by memory and the knowledge that it was his. It all looked the same, and yet so different. He could see the dock in front of his home from the top of the hill, but at the end, a crimson beacon. Gojyo.

Hakkai dropped the coins inside his front door, then walked out to the edge of dock. Gojyo sat on the end of the dock, his hair was whipping in the sea wind, still dry; he hadn't gone into the water yet. From the sand, Hakkai could see his face, set in a somber, contemplative mask, a face Hakkai had never seen on him, one which didn't fit him. Hakkai had never seen him so well, not at any distance, and now that he could, this was not at all what he wanted to see. He looked forlorn. He looked lonely. Hakkai knew too well what it was to stare out at that ocean by his lonesome, wondering if there was more out there for him than an endless sea and all the fish in it, or the pigs in his pen beside his home. When had he resigned himself to accepting there was no more than that?

He knew he stared down at Kanan's grave with that same lost expression.

Hakkai crept down the dock towards Gojyo, stopping just short of bending down to tap his shoulder. This close, he could see the scratches and scrapes healing on his arms and legs, and layer upon layer of healed scars. Gojyo usually healed in the water, how had he gotten hurt already? Was Gojyo that delicate on land? How had Hakkai never noticed?

Something came to Hakkai, as clear as the sky, clearer than the sea: Gojyo was so much more like him than he'd realized.

He sat down next to Gojyo on the dock. “You did really well, Gojyo.” He saw Gojyo start to smile, but it wasn't in his eyes at all. Hakkai put his hand over Gojyo's before he could speak. “I've asked too much of you, I'm sorry.”

“Hey, it's cool.” Gojyo shrugged his shoulders, his expression unchanged. “I'm good at it, and I offered to help.”

“You did, and you've done very well.” He gave Gojyo's hand a squeeze, and felt the gnarls of his old scars and cuts. He bruised so easily, too, his tan skin marred with patches of purple that Hakkai wasn't sure he had seen before. His heart ached with pity and sympathetic pain. “You should rest. I beg of you.” He gave Gojyo's hand a gentle tug. “Come inside with me. I deeply appreciate your help, but I just as deeply miss your company.”

Gojyo's smile broke and faded, and he turned to study Hakkai's face. He wondered what Gojyo saw of him, thought of him, what he had always seen in him. After a moment, his expression lightened. “Yeah? I guess I could use a rest.” Hakkai stood first and offered him a hand to his feet.

Hakkai could recall how Gojyo had reacted to everything he'd made, and he crossed his fingers when he pulled in the traps. There were no crabs, but Hakkai recognized plenty of other fish that Gojyo enjoyed. He picked out the fish he knew Gojyo liked best, the scallops especially, and cooked it all in the pan with lots of seaweed and plenty of soy sauce. Gojyo was obviously pleased when Hakkai piled his bowl high with rice and rich, savory stew, and ate enthusiastically for the first time in days. Hakkai filled his bowl twice before he was satisfied, but it was when he finally pushed his bowl back with the spoon in it that he seemed to really look at Hakkai.

“Hey, those things on your face, what are those?” He tapped the bridge of his nose, and Hakkai nudged the spectacles up his own nose a little as if reminded they were there. As if he could forget!

“They're corrective lenses, or spectacles. I think I heard the doctor call them glasses.” He pulled them off for a moment, then wiped a little bit of dirt off of the lenses before precariously replacing them. “Goku said I should get them, they help me see everything clearer.”

Gojyo cocked his head. “You were having trouble seeing? I didn't know.” Then, he grinned and pointed at himself. “What do I look like now? Now you see me better, right?”

Hakkai focused on Gojyo, his manly, delicate features, the chiseled jawline and cheekbones, his long eyelashes and keen, sharp eyes, his body like a carved work of the ideal man sculpted by a master. The scars that criss-crossed his whole form like so many nets had marred him. That beaming, wolfish grin. Hakkai had missed it, and he hadn't known just what he'd been missing until now. Gojyo had been perfect before, and only now did Hakkai see the full breadth of his perfection. “I think you look just as handsome as you always did.”

Gojyo's grin stretched wider, face brightening with the encouragement. “Well, hearin' it from you with them things on, it must be true, huh?” He stretched his arms over his head, obviously showing off his arms. Then, he glanced towards the door. “So, uh –”

Hakkai's heart was in his throat at the very thought of having to watch Gojyo leave. “Why don't we play some games? You were getting quite good at mahjong, last we played.”

Gojyo's eyebrows raised, light coming to his eyes as if dawn had come. “You wanna play?” He nodded a few times, the smile coming back to him like that same slow sunrise. “Yeah, I'm in. Just go easy on me, alright? I'm still learning.”

Hakkai let Gojyo beat him soundly in every round. He didn't even have to try especially hard to lose most of the time. That little speck of humiliation was worth it to keep Gojyo smiling. Even better was that Hakkai's vision didn't fail him the moment the sun was gone and the oil in the lantern got low, so they could play until they were both drowsing over the tiles and table. Hakkai noticed Gojyo's forehead drooping first, and extended a hand to push his forehead back up, brushing his hair from his face in the same motion.

His skin was so smooth, his hair was so soft. His face was relaxed, a sleepy smile, a warm glow of contentment in his eyes. He was _happy._ Hakkai was happy, too. When had he forgotten how wonderful it felt to make someone else happy?

“Will you...” He hesitated, but Gojyo cocked his head with intrigue. “Will you stay inside tonight? At least for a little? The rain barrel is better, but ... forgive me, I'm being selfish.” He paused again, lowering his eyes. “I've been selfish.”

Gojyo shook his head. “Nah, it's fine. I can at least nod off with ya 'til I dry out.”

Hakkai wished he could bow and kiss Gojyo's feet. Instead, he just bowed his head. “I'll be glad for your company.”

Hakkai took his glasses off and set them somewhere safe, up on the table next to the mahjong tile box, then, finding the room black and blurry without them, felt his way to the bedroll one careful step at a time. Gojyo tapped his foot when he got close. “Harder to see without 'em now you've had 'em?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He eased himself to a careful sit, finding the bedroll under him. When he lay down, he found himself a hand's breadth from Gojyo, and he could see him in the dark, crimson hair bright in a shaft of moonlight, eyes still glimmering. “But I can still see enough.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo sounded amused. “That's good. But you're still gonna wear 'em, right? They're good for you. You've been you again, wearin' 'em, more you than you've been in days.”

“I'll try to remember.” He wasn't certain of what Gojyo meant, but he wanted to be able to see Gojyo from as far away as he could, for his vision to always be so clear.

He fell asleep soon, lulled by the even sounds of Gojyo's breathing near him in the dark, and dreamed of things that he wouldn't remember when he woke. The trouble was that he woke while it was still dark, disturbed when Gojyo roused near him. Through shallow sleep, he felt Gojyo move and rise, and woke just enough to sit up as the door opened, and despite the blur of his vision without the spectacles, he could see Gojyo's lanky figure standing against the starlight before the door shut.

Hakkai listened for the lid of the rain barrel, but when he didn't hear it after a minute, he felt his way to the table, grabbed his glasses, and followed Gojyo out the door. Gojyo was standing at the end of the dock, and Hakkai could see him peeling his tunic off and throwing it down behind him. Hakkai reached him just as he went for the drawstring on his pants.

“Where are you going?” He extended a hand, and Gojyo stopped mid-motion, turning towards Hakkai.

“I was, y'know.” He motioned vaguely, eyes lowering, face falling, his good mood hitched by an anchor and sinking all at once. “Pearls, and all.”

Guilt rattled Hakkai like a quake under his feet. “Oh, Gojyo. Not tonight. I've asked far too much of you, I know. Is it too much to ask you to stay with me a little longer?”

“Hey, no, I said it was alright, yeah?” He tried for a half-cocked grin, but it was just half-hearted. “I offered a billion times to get you more, right? I'm just makin' good on my word.” He crossed his arms. “I felt like I was just trouble for ya before, 'cause I don't do as good at the stuff you do. At least when I'm out here, I'm useful.”

“I don't care about what's useful, Gojyo. I care about your happiness.” He folded his hands in plea. “I'm sorry I treated you with calumny. I...” He hesitated, wishing he could excuse his selfishness. “I want you to be happy. What is it you want?”

Gojyo's expression shifted between confusion and bemusement. “Me? Dunno. Never really wanted anything, y'know?” He shrugged, heels rocking on the dock. Hakkai winced, but though Gojyo's face pinched for a moment, he just went on, “I've never minded much. I was always just kind of fine getting by.”

“There must be something you want.” Gojyo's face fell again, avoiding Hakkai's gaze, but Hakkai took a step towards him. “That girl, the one I saw you talking to. You seemed to like her. Would you like to spend time with her during the day instead?” He ached offering it, because it would wound him to see Gojyo leave him for someone else, but Gojyo shook his head.

“She's nice and all, and she's fine to talk to when I'm waiting for ya, but she's not important.”

Hakkai felt relieved, then hated his jealous, petty heart for whatever silly notions it had dreamed up over the pair of them. When had he gotten so jealous? When had keeping Gojyo to himself become so important? He tried to correct himself: “You can, if you want, of course. I was away, doing things without you, and I hate to think of you by your lonesome.”

Gojyo chuckled, shaking his head. “You think I'm lonely? Shit, what about you?” He tapped Hakkai's forehead a little. “Going here and there all by yourself, it sucked watching you leave by yourself in the morning and come back alone at night. Hell, it's like when you were a kid.” He motioned out to the shore. “I'd see ya out there, sitting there when your sister wasn't around. Your old man'd scream atcha – like, I'd hear it from the water – and then you'd sit there and stare at the water like you wanted to swim away forever.”

Hakkai's heart stopped. “You ... saw that.” Gojyo nodded, and Hakkai's heart raced back into motion as the memories came with it. “I was a child then – how long have you been in this lagoon?”

“Dunno.” Gojyo shrugged again. “A long time.”

Hakkai remembered Gojyo saying he'd been here when he'd broken off from his pod when he was _younger_. That he'd been here since. Only now did Hakkai realized just how long that had actually been. “You've been here, alone, since I was a child.”

“Oh. Uh.” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head. “Guess so, yeah.”

Hakkai gaped at him, the waves lapping at the dock far too loud in his ears. “You were young, too.” He strode forward and took both of his hands. “And you were watching me.”

He had stared out at the ocean wishing for more. What had Gojyo wanted when he'd been looking at him on the shore?

“Before you spoke with me, how long had it been since you'd lived with anyone else?” He squeezed Gojyo's hands in his. Gojyo, too surprised to move, furrowed his brow.

“I mean, it's not like other merfolk didn't come through...”

“But did any of them stay with you? Befriend you? Give you the time of day?” Gojyo didn't answer, and that was the answer Hakkai knew he would get. Hakkai squeezed Gojyo's hands again, as if he could keep his own from shaking. “You dream of calling me lonely when you've been alone out there for who knows how long, and I've dared leave you here.” He had at least had Goku, Sen Sou, Kanan when she was alive. There had been people he could have talked to if he'd wanted, but Gojyo had been alone in his bay, watching him. “Gojyo, I –”

He could smell the sea in Gojyo's hair this close, he could see the stars in his eyes. They were so close. So close.

“I don't want you to go. Come back in with me,” he whispered plaintively. “Come in, stay as long as you like, I'll never send you out again. You never have to go unless you want to. I – Gojyo, I –” He inhaled again, and Gojyo was somehow drawn  _closer_.

Hakkai wanted him closer.

One of them bowed his head towards the other. Their lips touched, and Hakkai couldn't stop himself. He dove in and kissed him, sure and deep as he'd ever kissed anyone.

Gojyo tasted of salt and sweet, and somehow intoxicating, more so than any tobacco or liquor Hakkai could imagine. Hakkai never wanted to exhale, never wanted to release him, never wanted to let him go. He only released Gojyo from his kiss when he couldn't breathe, only sobbing out, “I know you don't belong here, and it's horribly selfish of me, but please stay with me.”

When Hakkai dared look at Gojyo again, it was to see him stunned, gaze afire even in the darkness. He staggered back a step, then swept right back in and threw his arms around Hakkai, then drew him into a kiss with a ferocity Hakkai couldn't imagine. Hakkai whited out for a second in the ecstasy, until Gojyo released him from his embrace and took his hands.

“You can come with me tonight,” Gojyo said, grinning as he tugged Hakkai towards the end of the dock. “C'mon, take your clothes and leave 'em here, you'll never drown with me around.” He shed his pants with a single shove and stepped out of them, then dove in. The change came in an instant, red and gold scales blossoming across Gojyo's back, his legs sealing into a fin, the fin against his spine upright in his excitement, sharp teeth gleaming in a wide, childish grin that made Hakkai's heart melt. “You invited me to your world. Tonight, I wanna show you mine.”

Hakkai wanted nothing more than for his and Gojyo's worlds to be one and the same. He shucked his shirt and trousers, folded his glasses and wrapped them in his tunic on the dock, and dove in. Gojyo took both of his hands and pulled him under, gills flaring as his scales erupted down his belly and his legs sealed into his elegant fin, and though Hakkai couldn't breathe for a second, Gojyo sealed his lips over his and pushed air into his lungs with a kiss.

Then, he took his hand and dragged him towards the deep.


	18. Undrowned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo invites Hakkai into his world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mention of slightly monstrous naked bits in this chapter. I didn't want to take it too far for fear of verging on "horror" or "HOW" but, hell, you all saw the rating, you knew where this was going when you signed up for this.
> 
> Thank you all, as ever, for your patience!

**18: Undrowned**

Hakkai had heard many legends of mermaids who encountered sailors, how they'd lure them in with siren song or promises of pleasure in the water, then pulled them under and drowned them. He was living the same in the moment, deeper than he could dive alone, with Gojyo's arm around his chest, and only going deeper. However, every time he even thought he might start to drown, Gojyo would cover his mouth with his and breathe for him, gills flaring as he exhaled and inhaled for him. Gojyo would never let him drown.

The depths of the lagoon were illuminated by brilliant moonlight shining down through the waves, and Hakkai could see what Gojyo saw despite seeing it through water. Gojyo's world beneath was a tapestry of seaweed in a rainbow of colors, of tiny red and purple crabs creeping through the holes in the cratered, alien rocks and around the dunes and into the shadow. Schools of tiny fish, silver and gleaming minnows and dark, lithe sardinella, scattered through the underbrush as they swam through. The glimmers of moonlight highlighted patches of sand like stardust, coloring the dark deep with a spectrum of colors Hakkai never saw on land, only painted in novels and described in words without translation. Hakkai didn't want to look away not even to blink, even when his vision became fuzzy around the edges. Then, Gojyo breathed air into his mouth again and made things bright again, and Hakkai suddenly cared much, much less about the underwater view.

Gojyo, moving in the water, in his element, was beautiful, without qualification. In motion, he shimmered, and his face shone with happiness. Hakkai marveled every time he caught a glimpse of his skin in the moonlight, the faint tracery of scales down his chest, his elegant tail and the film of fins that caught the light, but his unabashed joy at their venture was more beautiful than anything else about him. Gojyo was a miracle in motion, and though he was fascinated by the underwater world he had never seen, the creature he knew was more wondrous than anything else. Hakkai clasped his hand tight as he led on, under the rocks, past deep caverns, and out ever deeper into the endless blue.

His legs were tired, but he wanted to stay at Gojyo's side forever. However, when his strength flagged and he began to fail to move his own weight, Gojyo noticed. Hakkai wished he could apologize for dragging him, holding him back and pulling his arms, but Gojyo's brow knit up and he stopped in place to turn to him.

“You doing okay?” Gojyo spoke surprisingly clearly underwater, gills flaring a little as he exhaled through his mouth. Hakkai didn't trust himself to open his mouth, and merely nodded. Gojyo cocked his head, then pointed upwards. “We can surface, if you want.” Hakkai shook his head, no, he wanted to stay, he wanted to be here with him. Gojyo seemed to understand, but he still considered him carefully. He put both hands on Hakkai's cheeks again, then covered his mouth to breathe for him again. “Wait,” he whispered as he broke the liplock, then paddled back, closing his eyes with focus, and Hakkai saw the scales on his tail fragment and separate. Amazingly, he unlocked his legs, forcing his fin apart. Scales still spread up his belly and down his thighs and legs, the fins of his tail shrank down to webbing between his toes, and the scales on his chest seemed to stand out just a little more, but he grinned with all his teeth and paddled in place for a moment. “This way, we can both swim the same, yeah?” He took Hakkai's hands again, then pulled him to his chest. “I'll take you just a little deeper.”

Gojyo slid to paddle backwards, chest to chest with Hakkai as if he were floating on his back, kicking lazily and studying Hakkai's face as if he were the marvel between them. He felt like a small otter riding on its parent, safe against Gojyo's chest as the craggy rocks gave way to an expanse of sand and thick seaweed like a lush carpet, spreading ever deeper below them. Gojyo escorted Hakkai past massive carp and sea bream, the kind Hakkai only ever saw from the deep sea fishers, but Gojyo didn't flinch, and Hakkai felt no reason to, no fear. Hakkai hadn't been this intimately close to someone since the last time he'd released Kanan's hand, or perhaps the last time Kougaiji had laid him down on the sandy banks of the tributary by the mountain pass. He held just a little tighter onto Gojyo's hands and squeezed his eyes shut tight, not wanting to let go, not wanting the moment to end. Gojyo seemed to be enjoying the moment just as much, touching his nose to Hakkai's before pressing air into his lungs. Hakkai wished he never had to surface, that there was no surface, that their worlds were one and the same.

Gojyo stopped, kicking back to halt their momentum in the water, and rolled, holding Hakkai close to turn him with him. Hakkai clung tight to Gojyo's chest as he righted them, then gestured with a wave of a long, limber arm. “Look out there.” Hakkai turned, chest aching as he resisted the urge to inhale, and gazed out into the deeps, the blue fading to black. Gojyo looked out too, his eyes batting back to Hakkai as he spoke. “This is as deep as we go, beautiful. It drops off after here.” Hakkai nodded, but still felt a little dazed at the revelation; he knew how far out the drop-off was from the shore, how the water there went night-black beneath the surface. Gojyo contemplated the vast, distant blue, muttering, “We go much deeper and it'll be hard to get you back up.” Gojyo rubbed his back a little. “Past here, there's bigger fish, and dolphins, and it gets dark.” He swung his hips forward, moving naturally through the water to position himself as if he were sitting, then eased his knees under Hakkai's legs to brace him. “It's dangerous to go out there alone. The big things'll eat ya in three bites, and dolphins, well, they're just downright rude and don't take no for an answer. There's fishers and nets and hooks too, so it ain't a gamble I wanna take.” He turned Hakkai's face towards him with a touch of his fingers to his chin. “It's pretty out there, but...” He paused, then covered Hakkai's mouth to breathe for him again, his lips lingering on Hakkai's tongue for a second, and Hakkai felt like his insides had melted. Gojyo's expression was soft and somber, but his smile still spoke of mischief and warm affection. “There's much more closer to shore that's way better, y'know?”

Hakkai wanted to believe he meant him. That he possibly could.

Gojyo secured him in his arms and paddled towards the shore, swift in the water even without the aid of his tail. Hakkai remembered the night they'd met, being whisked away from what he'd thought would be the place and very moment of his demise. He hadn't thought he'd want to live again, and yet he'd never felt more alive before.

Gojyo swam onto the side of the dock where Hakkai never laid traps or lines, away from the road, and beached there, laying Hakkai in the sand and backing up onto his elbows. “Breathe deep, beautiful.” Gojyo demonstrated, his gills folded shut as he inhaled slowly as if Hakkai may have forgotten. Perhaps Hakkai had. He still felt breathless. Still, he filled his lungs through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.

“It's wondrous, Gojyo. Your world beneath the surface truly is beautiful.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Gojyo still cradled Hakkai in his arms, clearly more interested in watching Hakkai's mouth move than anything else. “It's just like that for me, that's just what it is. There's coral and sea-grapes and places to swim and places to hide, it just is.” He shook his head, a little bashful, a little childish, and yet so bright in the starlight. “Your world's what's really amazing to me. The trees, the fields, the flowers, there's nothin' like that down there. I like coming to shore, seeing what I can see here, and I've seen so much that I wouldn't ever see down there. That's what's amazing to me.” He bowed his head. “I saw you.”

Hakkai inhaled slowly, the words reverberating through the chambers of his heart, and he wanted so badly to keep them there, to hold that sentiment there. He wanted to be part of Gojyo's world. He wanted to believe Gojyo wanted to be part of his.

Hakkai tried to gather his thoughts, but before he could speak, Gojyo kissed him again. That kiss whispered promises to Hakkai, and Hakkai desperately wanted to believe them. He carded his fingers through Gojyo's hair and cradled his head as he leaned into the kiss, chest to chest, heart to heart with his wild and wonderful miracle. Gojyo withdrew a little to press kisses over his forehead, down his cheek and breastbone, then to the hollow of his belly and Hakkai leaned back to let him. His cock was already thickening against his thigh, and Gojyo seemed to notice, cradling it in his palm as he knelt down over his spread legs. Hakkai watched, enthralled, as the kisses down his belly now moved to the head of his prick, then down the shaft, until finally, he closed his lips around the head. Hakkai forced himself still, scrabbling to grip something but only finding wet sand under his palms, and Gojyo chuckled. Hakkai could feel his laughter in every inch of himself, and he had to take a deep breath and hold it to keep from embarrassing himself. “Oh, Gojyo, you –”

"Let me," Gojyo whispered, damp eyelashes fanning over his cheek like a maiden's fan. Hakkai's heart clenched, and he nodded. Without hesitating, Gojyo took his dick a little deeper in, laving the shaft with the flat of his tongue, and Hakkai moaned and writhed. His feet splashed into the water, the tide rising to greet them, or perhaps the two of them were being drawn into it. Even as the next wave swept over Gojyo's hair, tossing every tangle into a glorious red cloud under the moonlight, Gojyo still held him in his mouth, taking him all the way in as his gills flared. Hakkai shivered, and tried to push at Gojyo's head.

“Don't – stop – you'll –” Gojyo lifted his eyes over the waterline, keeping the very end of Hakkai's dick on his tongue and pressing it into the head. Hakkai swallowed hard, and whispered, “I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

Gojyo chuckled through his nose, but let Hakkai's cock fall from his lips. “It's pretty damn hard to drown me.” He licked his lips, grinning like Hakkai had just laid out a beautiful meal in front of him. “When you're with me, it'll be damn hard for you to drown either. C'mere.” He sat forward and captured Hakkai's face in his, fingernails curling gently against the line of his jaw, then drew him deep into a kiss. Hakkai let his eyes fall shut as Gojyo explored his mouth with his tongue, but he didn't even realize he was falling forward with Gojyo until he felt the water hit his chest. Before he could resist, Gojyo threw his arms around Hakkai and pulled him back into the water, but before Hakkai could panic, Gojyo sealed Hakkai's mouth to his again and breathed deep for him, then unwound one hand from his back and took his dick in hand.

Hakkai lifted his head to cry out, and found his head above water, and Gojyo paddling lazily just below the surface, smirking. Hakkai wanted to laugh, but Gojyo was still rubbing at his shaft, and he panted desperately as he curved his thumb around the vein. “Come down,” Gojyo was mouthing, and Hakkai dove down in, kissing Gojyo again and letting him turn him through the water, in and out. The chill of the water and the night air made his heated skin feel even hotter, and Gojyo's attentions only put a bellows to the furnace of his heart. Gojyo still anchored him around the waist as they turned through the shallows, stroking him harder and faster, as delighted as Hakkai was excited, overjoyed just to see Hakkai taking his pleasure. However, this close to Gojyo, Hakkai could feel that he wasn't the only one excited, and dared glance down just as Gojyo kissed him again and turned him through the water, just a little deeper.

Hakkai shouldn't have been surprised that Gojyo was in possession of a phallus; he'd seen Gojyo naked when he had pulled him ashore, when he was washing, and he had watched him strip his things away before changing form. In this form between human and merman, it was just as present as before, but now stood erect against his lower belly, pointing at the dip of his navel. Hakkai had seen his share of erections, often his own, Kougaiji's more than a few times, a few others, but Gojyo was as singular here as he was in all things. His prick was slender, elegant, and patterned with the same patchwork of red, black, and golden scales up the shaft, every ridge on the column shimmering in the moonlight. Hakkai wrested his own control back long enough to get his hand around it, and felt the scales shift, felt Gojyo's pulse through the turgid flesh, and saw Gojyo's eyes widen, saw his irises go bright with fever, and he enthusiastically kissed Hakkai even deeper. Gojyo was hot in his hand, jumping on every downstroke as if he liked nothing more than being in Hakkai's hold, and he sucked Hakkai's tongue hard and rutted up into him, the head of his dick bumping Hakkai's as each tried to bring the other to his peak. Finally, Hakkai grunted and pushed Gojyo's chest.

“Enough,” he gasped, his mouth touching the water, and Gojyo left go of him and brought both of them to the surface with a few kicks, balancing Hakkai as he straddled his hips.

“Did I hurt ya? Can ya breathe alright?” Gojyo actually looked a little worried.

Hakkai shook his head. “Gojyo – it's not that I want to stop. I want...” He swallowed, and slid down over Gojyo's dick again, rubbing them together, purple-flushed satin skin against gold and red scales. Hakkai captured both of them in his hands, and Gojyo's pupils darkened as his fingers closed around it. “I want to give you more, Gojyo. Will you take me?”

Gojyo's eyes widened, pupils like pinpricks of distant starlight against the carmine red of his irises, and he nodded hard, muttering, “I'll take you anywhere you wanna go. Can you – y'know – out here?”

Hakkai glanced over his shoulder, not quite realizing how far they'd drifted from the shore. “If you … if you support me … I'll try.” Gojyo gripped Hakkai's hips tight, indicating his intentions without words. Hakkai took a breath and braced one arm on Gojyo's shoulder, keenly aware of his lack of stability but for Gojyo's support, and leaned up a little so he could touch himself. His heart fluttered when he found his hole, as if it was waking up for the first time in a long time, and he pushed his fingertip in. He hissed, and Gojyo muttered something encouraging, attention affixed to Hakkai's face. Hakkai forced his finger in a little deeper, wincing, and Gojyo released his hip to touch his wrist.

“Hey now, let's not rush this. Lemme help.” Gojyo slid his hand up Hakkai's hand to touch his entrance, then drew it back to suck on his fingers for a moment before returning his hand to the pucker of Hakkai's asshole. He slid a spit-slicked finger in where Hakkai's was a moment ago, and brought with it the cool, damp sensation of the night air. A chill ran up Hakkai's spine, but Gojyo hushed him as his teeth chattered and hastily worked his finger in and out. It was too much; Hakkai bit back a cry.

“Slow, slow,” Hakkai urged him, then moved a hand to Gojyo's dick again. “Follow my lead.” He curled his hand around the shaft and set a smooth rhythm of strokes, which Gojyo matched, but his pupils went dark and a little unfocused again, and his rhythm broke too.

“First time,” Gojyo managed to choke out with a brave smile, clearly a little embarrassed. Hakkai smiled affectionately.

“With another man? This way?” Gojyo nodded, and Hakkai smiled with affection at his endearing sheepishness. “It's alright; just treat me like you would anyone.”

“No can do. You're too good for that.” Gojyo pushed his finger all the way in and held it there, then crooked his finger in to press at his prostate. Hakkai stuttered out another gasp, and Gojyo, encouraged, grinned. “Just tell me what'll feel good for you.”

“That,” Hakkai answered in an instant. “Yes, please, that. And … more.”

“More?” Gojyo slid a second finger in, and Hakkai moaned as his body stretched to accept it, the burn and pain coupled with searing pleasure.

“God, yes, yes...” Hakkai kept trying to stroke Gojyo, hand trembling and rhythm breaking as he worked through the ache. He ground down against Gojyo's fingers, forgetting they were afloat and making Gojyo's float buckle. Gojyo rebalanced them quickly, catching Hakkai against his chest as they bobbed in the blue, and as the cold water splashed up Hakkai's back, Gojyo pulled him against him and replaced his fingers with the blunt, hot head of his dick. He held Hakkai still as he trembled through the shock of the breach, but pulled Hakkai down into his hips. Hakkai's eyes went wide as he slid down onto Gojyo, chest to chest and feeling every inch of Gojyo, every contour of his scales, as he filled Hakkai and brought him down to the root. Nothing had felt like this before, nothing could. He was sinking into the deep, and if he drowned tonight, he would die happy.

Gojyo held Hakkai tight and sealed his mouth to Hakkai's as he thrust up into him a few times, and then they sank under, with Gojyo breathing for Hakkai as they turned in and out of the blue. Gojyo seemed to have an innate balance and control in the water, as if he was one with it, fucking into Hakkai as they moved through the ocean's rocking. Gojyo never let Hakkai's mouth open under the water, kissing him deep and hard, his mouth open to Hakkai's both to let him taste the sea salt on his tongue and to breathe back for him. Hakkai caught glimpses and flashes of the moon through the rippling water, light coming down in rays as if shone from the Heavens, or perhaps he was whiting out in ecstasy. Gojyo swallowed his cries as he took him, but Hakkai could feel his hands shaking where they held him.

They dove deeper, either sinking or swimming but Hakkai could no longer tell, but Gojyo held him fast, completely in control, and Hakkai held on to the promise in his grip, then slid his hands into his hair. Gojyo bucked deep suddenly as Hakkai held his head, filling him to the brim, and as Hakkai desperately embraced him and sunk into the kiss, into the pleasure, as if he never had to surface. Gojyo's heat and power were everything he'd dreamed they might have been, and Hakkai wanted it, wanted nothing else more. He ground down into Gojyo with all the force he could muster and came in a white cloud into the water between them. Gojyo sucked the air from his lungs as Hakkai's body spasmed and clenched about him, then locked up, mouth hard and arms wrapped tight around Hakkai's chest, and Hakkai felt his heat flood his inner walls.

For a second, all Hakkai could do was kiss Gojyo, but he got the distinct sensation that they were rising. They surfaced, breaching the rippling depths into the clear night and the myriad glittering stars, and Gojyo finally released Hakkai's mouth, leaving them both gasping and gulping in mouthfuls of cool night air. Hakkai could still feel his own release reverberating in his chest like the aftershocks of a lightning strike.

Gojyo may have been inexperienced, but Hakkai didn't feel as if he'd lacked anything. Knowing that it was Gojyo holding him, making love to him, was as satisfying as the act itself. He turned in the circle of Gojyo's embrace and kissed him again, sucking and nipping at his mouth. Gojyo lazily returned his kisses, then touched his nose to Hakkai's. Hakkai rubbed his nose back, his eyes slipping shut.

Then, his body slipped halfway into the water, and Gojyo had to catch him. “Oh, whoa there! Shit, I gotta get you on dry land...” Hakkai realized they were both exhausted from the exertion of moving in the water, with Gojyo clearly flushed from effort. His grip was a lot less firm when he wrapped his arms around Hakkai again. Hakkai made to paddle for shore, but quickly found his muscles too soft to accomplish the task. Gojyo roused enough to pick up the slack, sealing his legs into his full tail and propelling them towards the dock as fast as he could, only stopping when they'd both beached again. He lay Hakkai on the sand, peppering his brow with quick, light kisses, before backing up on his palms, grinning wildly. “Safe and sound,” he whispered, before letting himself fall onto Hakkai's chest. Hakkai could feel Gojyo's heart beating through his chest against his own navel, and lifted his shoulders just enough that he could twine his fingers through the tangles of Gojyo's hair.

“You didn't let me drown,” he whispered, “but I never want to take another breath without you.”

Gojyo rumbled back with obvious satisfaction and contentment, and Hakkai gathered his wits enough to smooth his hair down, then sat up and gathered Gojyo up under the arms. Gojyo changed back, scales fading, and got to his feet, and Hakkai lolled into his chest, as tired as he'd ever been. He wasn't sure which of them was carrying the other as the two of them tripped along wearily for home.

Hakkai's futon was waiting, cold, the quilt rumpled on the floor, but Hakkai knew it just begged to be filled again. Hakkai dropped his clothes on the table and set his glasses beside them much more gingerly, then knelt and laid Gojyo down on the quilt with a thousandfold greater care than even that. He dropped himself, and Gojyo closed his arm around Hakkai's shoulder, still damp and smelling of the ocean.

That scent memory haunted Hakkai for a moment, and though Gojyo had stilled against his back, his breathing even, Hakkai suddenly felt too sick to be tired.

He wanted, so much, to believe that the unspoken promises Gojyo had made him could possibly be true. However, he'd seen too many things fail for anything but coldest, cruelest logic to prove true.

“Oh, Gojyo.” He bent his head and kissed Gojyo's thumbs where they clasped around his chest, holding him tight. Gojyo didn't stir but for the swell and sink of his chest as he breathed, in and out, into Hakkai's ocean-soaked hair. Hakkai would never be able to smell the sea again without remembering Gojyo's fingers on his skin, and that only made him all the more sick at heart. “We shouldn't have … I shouldn't have … not when I know I can't keep you.” He closed one hand over Gojyo's. “I wish you could stay forever.”

No matter how he felt, he couldn't make Gojyo stay here. He belonged to the ocean, and Hakkai knew that this blessing would vanish like all the others. Even so, he couldn't help those feelings, the desperation to have something good stay.

“I know it's impossible, you're going to leave me someday, but if I can ask for something, anything, it would be to keep you.”

He drifted to sleep, holding Gojyo tight and wishing on whatever frail faith he had that Gojyo could stay. He never felt how shallow Gojyo's breathing had become under his hands, nor see him blink his eyes open, and never realized how lightly Gojyo slept, even in his arms.

 


	19. Illuminate Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai wakes to find his body still lit up from the night before and his mind afire with questions. Goku, however, has to chase another light down a very dark path...

**19: Illuminate Everything**

Dawn came too early, and as Hakkai rose to greet the sun, his body ached as if he'd been lying under the sun for far too long, a warm soreness echoing in all of his joints. However, as Hakkai tried to set himself to rights, he recalled the ways in which he'd worn himself out, the midnight adventure, the moonlit swim, Gojyo's attention and ministrations: bliss the likes of which he had never thought he'd experience again.

Now he had to wonder if he ever would again. Gojyo would be an unrivaled memory, no matter how much he longed for him to be more than that, but . He still felt sparks fly through him with every subtle motion as he rose, as he stretched his arms overhead and faced the sun. He caught a breath of the chilly ocean air, the scent of the sea, and tasted Gojyo on his tongue.

Then, he tasted his own blood in his mouth, like the night he'd nearly died, the night he'd come face to face with Gojyo for the first time. He could still remember how desperate he'd been, how little he'd wanted to live, how much he'd wanted his loneliness to end.

He didn't know how much longer Gojyo could or would stay.

Instead of letting himself dwell on it, he put his glasses on and stretched again, lifting his arms high. He felt Gojyo's pulse in his gut for a second longer, as if another soul dwelled within his, then turned to where Gojyo was still curled in the mat. Hakkai moved the salty tangles of his hair from his face, his skin dry and sandy to touch, then kissed beside his eyebrow. “Gojyo,” he whispered, and Gojyo made a senseless little noise. “Sleep here as long as you like. We've risen late, and the sun will go down early today, so I'll be back sooner.” He glanced out the window, past the rainbarrel, to the arc of the sun over the ocean towards the clouds. He touched Gojyo's face again, wincing at how his skin felt brittle under his thumb. “Gojyo?” Gojyo opened a glazed, wet eye, and Hakkai put his forehead against Gojyo's temple. “I'll be back in a while.”

“Mm.” Gojyo nodded, then turned his face down into the mat.

“Sleep a little longer.” Hakkai combed his fingers through Gojyo's hair again. “I'll be back, I'll come back. I promise.”

He wished he could have some promise that Gojyo would be there when he got back. Instead, he just left the fire low on the porridge left in the pot, put out a few small traps, and departed to the fields. It would be nice to have something other than Gojyo's touch on his mind.

* * *

Reaping the empty rice stalks and clearing out the paddies may have helped distract his mind, but it did not make his body forget. Apparently his misadventure in the ocean had left him much more sore than he'd first noticed.

With every little motion or twist, Hakkai remembered Gojyo's hands on him, his mouth on his skin, his adoring touch. His body was a chorus of carnal remembrance. The cramps in his legs sang of how he'd wrapped them around Gojyo's waist, the bruises on his neck crooned about Gojyo's kisses, the soreness in his insides were a chorus praising Gojyo's strength and force. Despite his continued misgivings, he found himself smiling at the memories. He could have danced to his own tune, and found himself drifting and lingering between tasks, distracted by the song in his heart. Perhaps Gojyo was a siren like those in the stories Grandfather had told. Hakkai knew that if he ever heard Gojyo call him to the sea again, he'd answer between his next heartbeat and give up his last for the very chance.

Goku, of course, had noticed. Hakkai had caught him looking at him sideways, but when they crossed paths directly while taking a break, Goku surveyed him directly, then grinned a little. “Did I miss the meteor shower last night?”

Hakkai couldn't help but frown. “I beg your pardon?”

“You look starstruck.” Goku grinned, far too proud of his joke, but his good humor was contagious. Hakkai stifled a smile.

“I suppose your suggestion from yesterday still has me walking on air.” He carefully nudged the rim of his glasses, already knowing to be careful with such a precious gift. “It's helped me to see much more clearly.”

Goku's eyes lit up, and he grinned and gave Hakkai a little jostle. “That's great! I'm super glad! What did Gojyo think?”

Hakkai tried not to blush, but even he couldn't control the flow of his own blood and had to hope the color in his face was enough he could explain it off as effort from the work. “He, ah, he admired them. Greatly.”

“Oh-ho?” Goku wagged an eyebrow, grinning with obvious suggestion, and Hakkai realized that Goku might have had an inkling about his intentions with Gojyo, or perhaps even that Gojyo'd had such intentions for him, all along. Hakkai had always admired Goku's wild imagination, but now he merely found himself flustered when at its mercy.

“Goodness, they're merely spectacles!”

“Gojyo's a spectacle and you know it.” Goku beamed. “He liked 'em, huh? Did you tell him about all the stuff you could see now?”

Hakkai knew there was no point in trying not to blush now. “I did. Did you know he was quite good-looking?”

This got Goku laughing again. “Sure did! Man, he's – well, you know! They're all supposed to be pretty, right?”

That put a chill in Hakkai. He looked over Goku's shoulder and saw a few of the other workers watching them, including the show-off young man in the scarf, then shook his head. “Not here, Goku. Perhaps we can talk later.”

Goku shook his head hard. “Sorry, I was gonna see Sen Sou. It's the shortest day of the year, so he's, um, at the market.” Goku struggled to hide an over-eager grin, but lowered his voice: “He said, he's got an excuse to cut his day short 'cause there's less light, so he won't work as long. I was gonna take him and get him spectacles, too. If I can convince him, y'know?”

Hakkai's heart ached a little, and he patted Goku's shoulder. “I hope it goes well. We can talk some other time. Come for dinner tomorrow, won't you? You're welcome in my home anytime.”

Goku grinned broader now. “Yeah, sure! Thanks.” Hakkai could hear a little of his nerves, but as they split apart, Hakkai could see a little spring in his step. It would be nice if Goku could feel some of his happiness, if not from a different source. He'd thought it impossible once, but to taste paradise, even if was only once, was an ineffable sort of pleasure. If Goku could get what he fondly hoped for, Hakkai would enjoy his happiness vicariously.

It reminded him that he might only have the one night to remember. The song in his heart died a little, as Hakkai turned back to the fields to throw himself into the work again. He wanted to think about what he would do without Gojyo, if he would go back to that desolate feeling of loneliness and hopelessness. Even if he did manage to make his hometown, or what was left of it, safe, would he really want to keep living in it without Gojyo? He didn't want to live anywhere else, certainly, but Gojyo's place was in the sea. Somewhere beautiful, somewhere he could thrive.

Hakkai didn't want Gojyo to stay here, in a place that would hurt him. Hakkai could only make the pain less, and accept what Gojyo offered him in return while he could.

Goku did slip away from the orchard well before sundown, and Hakkai saw him collect his pay before bolting down the road. Hakkai checked the sun for himself, then stretched and settled in to work a little longer. As much of him wanted to return to Gojyo's side to enjoy every moment he might have had left, he wanted just as much a moment to think on his own.

He still wasn't certain what to think, stuck deciding between the song in his heart and the cold hard facts he knew, everything he'd learned.

(He merely forgot that without a good teacher, it was hard to learn anything new.)

* * *

Goku was halfway to the market when he got that strange sense that he was being watched again. This time, however, he was all alone, and he didn't have to seal his lips to keep anyone else out of trouble. The moment he spotted a shifting shadow in the shrubs on the roadside, he stopped in place. “I know you're there!” He announced it with the same kind of cheer he might use to greet a guest or a friend, but he tucked his hands in his trouser pockets to disguise that he was rolling his shoulders back and limbering up. “You know, I really like talkin' to folks walkin' with me. Makes the trip go easier, y'know? So, if ya got somethin' to say to me...” He let his gaze drift around the dusty road and the low shrubs and trees, counting the shapes that shouldn't have been there. “Well, I'd really appreciate you coming on out and saying it.”

The sun was sinking lower, and the shadows on the ground shifted gradually. At the same time, the shadows in the shrubs moved, and a few young men moved into plain view. They were wearing scarves or bandannas over their faces and hair, obscuring who they were, but Goku grinned and waved like they were old friends. “Hey, there! Good to see ya! So, are you all out here playing hide-and-seek?”

The one who seemed to be the leader glanced to his two goons – Goku could see him smirking under the mask – then fixed his flashy scarf. Goku was sure he knew him: Zakuro, maybe? Goku couldn’t quite place his name, even as he grinned playfully at his cohorts. “Yeah, sure. Hide-and-seek. We're hiding something alright. You wanna come seek it with us?” Goku could hear one of them chuckling to the other about what a 'stupid kid' he was. Goku shrugged it off. He had a feeling they were trying to mess with his friends by messing with him, and if that was so, he wasn't too worried about what they were saying about him.

No, he wanted to know what they'd done with his friends.

“I only really like playing with kids, y'know?” Goku rocked on his tiptoes, loosening his legs in the guise of shifting his weight. “But hey, if you got something to show me, let's go. I don't have time to play games with you.” He kept his grin on, but he was grinding his teeth just a little.

The goons motioned, but as Goku followed them, he noticed a few more guys with their faces covered or masked emerging from the shadows and falling in behind him. He counted six; Hakkai hadn't been able to teach him to read, but he could count, for sure. Plus, he might not have been much for book-reading, but people-reading, that came naturally to him, and he didn't like anything their tense shoulders and hands twitching at their sides were telling him. Goku kept a smile on as they veered from the main path and into some long, brown grasses and past a line of crooked, barren trees. There were more guys in the clearing (twelve total, Goku counted), and they were surrounding a figure Goku knew too well: Sen Sou forced to his knees with his ankles tied behind him and his wrists bound in front of him in such a way that his hands were forced outward with his palms up. His robes in tatters and the basket over his head dented and broken, and Goku could sense the rage coming off of him. Goku swallowed hard, even as fancy scarf Zakuro pranced over to Sen Sou and motioned flamboyantly: “Found him!” Goku strained to hold back his snap reaction, no matter how much he wanted to jump in and take care of business. Whatever they were trying to get out of him, they wouldn't have it. Zakuro bounded back over to him and gave him an overly friendly slap on the back. “Would you believe who we found yelling and hollering at the market? Who doesn't know that voice, right? Thinking he deserves what we have when he doesn't actually raise a finger to get it himself?”

Sen Sou had lifted his head, and Goku could see one eye was blacked under the hole in the basket, and that they'd stuffed something into his mouth and shoved the basket down over it. Goku winced, but shook his head. “Aw, Sen...”

“Enough,” one of the other thugs muttered, and Goku thought he knew his voice, too: the short-haired guy who he knew worked for Koushu, the one who'd taken Gojyo drinking. “Listen, kid, we know you're buddies with the crazy pig farmer living down by the shore.”

Sen Sou's visible eye widened under the mask, and Goku saw him stiffen, saw him glower at the backs of his captors, saw the haunches of his shoulders arching and heard the faint echo of Sen Sou trying to spit some insult through the gag. Goku just smoothed his hair back from his face and crossed his arms again. “He's not so crazy, but yeah, me and Hakkai are buddies.”

“Then surely,” the guy, gaze sharp like a hawk that had spied a wounded rabbit, “you know he's got cash. It ain't like he's been hiding it, throwing it around the town at the collection, buying expensive stuff in the market, all that stuff.” Goku wasn't listening. Sen Sou was slumping over already, what wind he had leaking from his sails, and it was taking everything he had not to rush in and do what he had to so he could get Sen Sou to a healer, but if this was about Hakkai, then that wouldn't solve the problem.

“A guy's allowed to have money. I don't get what the big deal is!”

“No? You don't have to.” The thug kicked Sen Sou in the jaw, toppling him over to the ground. Sen Sou landed on his side and tried to curl his face in towards his chest. Goku flinched, but sucked in a breath and held it tight. The goons seemed to notice, and the obvious ringleader definitely did, actually laughing as he planted his foot on Sen Sou's hip. “What, don't you give a shit about this one? Don't you _care_?” He sneered the last word, and it grated on Goku like fingernails against a slate, but the thug just stomped down on Sen Sou's side again. “Everyone knows you hang off of his ass like a sticky piece of shit, I'd'a thought you'd be crying and begging for us to let him go by now!”

It had taken all of Goku's strength not to yell when they'd kicked him, and he was straining to wall it back even now. “And if I were crying, you'd laugh at me for that, too. Sen's tough enough to handle whatever you can throw at him, but I gotta say, it takes a real bunch of cowards to go thirteen on one against an unarmed monk.” Sen Sou twisted his neck up to stare at him, but Goku tried to remain motionless and cool as the goons began to mutter among themselves, some of them clearly miffed at Goku's rebuke. “But fine. Tell me what you want, and what Hakkai's got to do with this.”

“No shit, stupid.” The fair-haired thug marched a few steps forward. “The red-haired guy who showed up outta nowhere? He lives with the pig farmer, and we know you're buddies with him, too. We know he's got something to do with this. I'm gonna need you to spill on what the deal is, or just bring the red-haired guy to us.”

“Uh-huh. So, either give you Hakkai's big secret if I have it, convince someone else to come out here and take Sen Sou's place, or...” Goku trailed off, but the thug scoffed.

“Or we slit this fucker's throat and go get that Gojyo punk ourselves!” The thug put his fist into his palm as if it were a face. Goku inhaled again, then shook his head.

“Aw man. You forgot the other option.” He twisted his neck a few times, then clapped his hands together. “Okay, I’ve heard enough! Just remember.” He grounded himself and clenched his fists. “You made me do this.” With that, he launched himself forward and threw himself at the ringleader with everything he had, making sure to tackle him away from Sen Sou as he knocked him flat and got down to business.

Business being punching this loser's face in so good Goku wouldn't recognize him next time.

The other thugs went for Goku too, but he heard them coming, and swung back with a primed fist to land in the jaw of the first, then whirling around to knock back the second and third without thinking. He hardly had to think about stomping the ribcage of the leader before plowing into the fourth like a bull with a headbutt to the solar plexus, and throwing him back at the others like a ragdoll. It was almost like a game, maybe because it had been when he was little. Whenever anyone had tried to conquer him, he'd fought back. That was why the elder had introduced him to Sen Sou, after all...

_"After all,” the elder had told him as he led him back into the house, “we can't have half the men in town abandoning their work to restrain you every time you get caught thieving peaches and decide to tear up the market.” Goku, sniffling and rubbing his face to the elder's hip, hugged him tight around the waist._

_"I was scared,” he whimpered, “I didn't mean to hurt 'em...”_

_"Big words,” a muffled, subdued man replied from nearby, “from someone who just tore up half the town market.” Goku whined in wordless protest and glanced up, only to see a boy a little bigger than him leaned against the wall, but skinny and gangly like he was still growing into his body, with his face obscured by a basket with two holes punched in it. He motioned to Goku with a thin hand. “This is your ward?”_

_“Goku. I found him a few years ago, but I believe he'll be ten in spring.” The elder smiled, his half-toothless mouth drawn tight over his gums, and patted Goku's back, pushing him forward in the same motion. “Do you truly think you can help him?”_

_The teenager in the basket mask scoffed but trudged a little closer, stopping by the side of the firepit. “Would I have offered if I didn't?”_

_The elder laughed, then turned to Goku. “This is Sen Sou, a young monk who's been traveling the area recently.” Goku chewed his finger as he took Sen Sou in, toe to tip, or as far as he could. “Where did you say you were from, young man?”_

_“I didn't.” Sen Sou crossed his arms, and though Goku couldn't see his face, he could tell he was scowling._

_“Ah.” The elder faltered, then nudged Goku another step towards Sen Sou. “Er, he's a young spiritual, who meditates to commune with the gods. He'll teach you meditation, to calm yourself and to summon your inner strength – isn't that right, young master Sen Sou?”_

_“None of that 'master' stuff.” Goku caught a good look at Sen Sou's eyes as the irises seemed to flare behind the mask, and suddenly, he wanted to see all of his face, wanted to see what he looked like when he said, “I'll teach him what I can, and more if he'll be patient.”_

_“He's not, I'm afraid.” The elder chuckled again, albeit reluctantly this time. “Patience isn't in his nature, not even in the slightest, but I implore you to teach him what you can.”_

_Goku had stopped listening, instead fascinated with Sen Sou's eyes, the way Sen Sou was studying him, as if he was looking for some great secret of the universe in him. Goku studied him back the same way, sure that he could see the whole world if he could just see under that basket._

_“I will. I think there's good in him.” Sen Sou sounded like a teenager then, and he reached out and mussed Goku's hair. Goku keened with glee, then jumped and hugged onto him, toppling him over._

_“Thank you!”_

_“Get off!” Sen Sou pushed at him, as the elder chuckled merrily above them. Goku had gotten the helmet off of him, and Goku could smile into his face, pinched but pretty, and take in his halo of yellow hair. Goku chuckled, but picked his helmet up and offered it out to him._

_“Here. Thank you for being my teacher.”_

_Sen Sou scoffed and jammed the helmet back down onto his head. “Don’t thank me until we find out if I have any success taming a monkey like you...”_

And Goku thought he had. Sen Sou hadn't given up on him, even when it seemed like nearly everyone else had. When Goku hadn’t been able to control himself, Sen Sou talked him down. Sen Sou didn’t give up on him, even as he’d silently struggled to keep himself afloat even with the elder’s kindness as a bolster. Goku thought he'd become the man he wanted to be, or the man he needed to be, and Sen Sou had been at his back all the way. Sen Sou had lit his path forward. He owed Sen Sou this much, and more.

Like affection. A door that was always open. Someone who would always stand behind him.

If only Sen Sou would take them.

“This'll have to do.” Goku threw the last of the assailants back and into a tree, and Goku could hear him moan as he passed out. Then, Goku turned to where Sen Sou lay at his feet, curled up with his knees over his face. He was shaking. Goku surveyed the area, the limp bodies strewn here and there and the backs of the few he hadn't been able to deal with more definitively, then began to undo the knots with the kind of care he didn't know how to exercise anywhere else, except maybe scooping up stray cats that had gotten themselves trapped in empty crab pots. “It's okay, it's just me. I've got you.”

Sen Sou was silent as Goku worked him loose of the ropes and helped him to a sit. The moment he was steady, however, Sen Sou promptly spat the gag out and batted Goku's arms aside. Goku didn't need to hear the 'don't touch me,' it was apparent in the wide-eyed terror he wore under his basket as plain as the basket itself. Goku stayed on his knees beside him, as Sen Sou wiped his mouth clean.

“Those fucking bastards.” He shook his head, then cuffed Goku across the back of the head. “Why didn't you kill them? Worthless trash like that ought to be burned.”

“Mm, I don't think I'd enjoy killing people, 'less they were really trying to kill me.” Goku rubbed the back of his head a little. Sen Sou just smacked him again.

“They've got it out for us, are you kidding me?!” Sen Sou spat again, then plucked some of the canvas that had been wound around his mouth off of his tongue, then yanked his pipe out of his robe. The bowl was chipped, but not so damaged Sen Sou couldn't safely pour in some tobacco and light it up, though his hands shook. “You, now, too. They came for me because they know Hakkai's decent to me. They'll tear you apart.”

Goku glanced at the last few of the thugs where they twitched on the ground as Sen Sou inhaled, then coughed all the smoke out. “I'm not scared of 'em.”

“You should be!” Sen Sou whacked at Goku again, and Goku put an arm up to catch it. Sen Sou had smacked him plenty of times over the years, and for one reason or another it had stopped hurting. When he actually meant to hit him, it seemed to hurt in a different way. “You should have walked away! I got caught off-guard, and if I didn't have enough fucking brain power to elude these morons, then-! Then-!” Sen Sou broke off, panting, then slumped, his face bowed towards his knees. “Fuck,” he hissed, then took a slow drag on his pipe. “And what the fuck is their deal?! Are they just that fucking obsessed with Hakkai's money for some reason?!” He thumped a fist on the ground. Goku watched the dirt tremble, and wished he was allowed to put an arm around Sen Sou's back. It was probably better to let him get it all out of his system. He'd have to save his freak-out for later.

“Well, he did suddenly get a bunch of money, and he hasn't been shy about it, so it's gotten some attention.”

“Those fucking pearls.” Sen Sou spat again, and Goku winced at the streak of red on the ground. “What, do they think he's a mermaid or something, fishing up all those pearls?”

“Oh, Hakkai told you?” Goku turned to him, eyebrows raised, and Sen Sou's jaw went slack.

“Wh - you…” He sputtered for a moment, turning a newly invented shade of purple, then whipped around and grabbed Goku by the front of his shirt. “That's it?! That's what he is?!”

“Wait, when did-”

“You just told me, dumbass!” Sen Sou threw him back, then grabbed his own hair and yanked. “Shit, it was fucking obvious, too!” Goku winced.

“Aw, man, I gotta apologize to Hakkai now too.”

“That's what you're worried about?!” Sen Sou groaned and dumped his spent pipe tobacco out. “Fuck. I knew he wasn't human for damn sure, but I thought he was a spirit of some form, a demon, the sort of thing that brings good luck and drains the spirit. If he's a merman – Fuck.” He struggled to a stand, legs trembling, then collapsed. He swore as his knees gave out, and Goku jumped up to keep him upright.

“Stop it, you're hurt!”

“I-” Sen Sou warred with his own words as they crested his tongue, choking them back as they tried to rush forth, “I am not so weak… I can’t be this weak...” He shivered, and all of his anger turned to anguish. “I’m… not…”

“Hey. It’s okay.” Goku made him look him in the face, even as he worked his arm up around his shoulder. “We’ve all been there. It’s hard to be strong when you’re by yourself sometimes, but I’m here now.” Sen Sou was silent, face wrought and wracked with agony that he was trying hard to hold back, but Goku gripped his hand tight. I’m gonna take you home, you can’t sleep outside like this.”

“Put me down-”

“No.” Goku adjusted his hold, giving Sen Sou all the strength he lacked. “You didn’t give up on me when I was an out-of-control animal. I’m not going to let you down now, and I never will.”

This made Sen Sou fall silent, and he even began to cooperate as Goku made to walk him back towards Chengdu Village. As the sun sank, he finally shook his head. “We need to talk to Hakkai.”

“I’ll warn him about the guys coming after us once I’m done patching you up.” Goku looked back again, and frowned. There was one less of the thugs laying on the ground than Goku remembered; where was that Zakuro guy with the fancy scarf? Goku recognized him as one of the guys he would chat with at the orchard, but it seemed even he’d gotten desperate enough to work for Koushu. “I’ll deal with ‘em, don’t worry.”

“Not that,” Sen Sou choked out, and he swung one hand up to grab Goku’s collar, capturing his attention with a harsh, desperate look. “Do you know where mermaids get pearls?”


	20. Pearls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai returns to Gojyo with much on his mind, but discovers something Gojyo didn't want him to know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - THIS CHAPTER DISCUSSES SELF-HARM.

**20: Pearls**

There was a familiar ache that set in Hakkai’s bones, sinking into his joints as the sun set over the ocean past his cottage. It joined the other little pains and things weighing on him. He wanted to be relieved to return, and just the thought of Gojyo waiting for him made him smile a little, before recalling everything else that facing him again would mean. He found himself hanging his head as he turned down the path for his home.

If nothing else, he needed to make a decision. Maybe he just needed to get direct with Gojyo. This wasn't just about pearls and mermaids anymore, this was two people with two different lives and goals, and Hakkai needed to know Gojyo's intentions. That alone would be enough to persuade him from all of his own mad ruminations.

And yet, when he came close to the dock, there was no sign of Gojyo. His clothes weren't on the dock or shore. Hakkai couldn't imagine him still asleep, but he walked close to the water's edge to take in his traps, watching all the while for even a trace of red hair in the sea, to no avail. The traps were a disappointment, too: hardly a few skinny little silverfish. Hakkai wondered briefly if the fish had been frightened by the shore by something or other, but like Father had told him, thoughts like that were useless to common men like him. All it meant was that the evening stew would be thin.

Gojyo wasn't in the futon, left rumpled on the ground. He wasn't in the rain barrel, either, and Hakkai found himself tossing the dipper into his basin with unnecessary bitterness. Gojyo hadn't gone off unaccompanied during the day before, and Hakkai wasn't certain if he was more worried or nervous that he seemed to have done so now.

“Perhaps,” he told himself around his mundane functions, “he swam out deeper than usual.” His heart panged a little at the recollection of how harrowed Gojyo had looked the last time he'd brought pearls in, how haggard, how tired. “I truly must speak with him, or help him somehow, no matter how he objects.” Instead of worrying, Hakkai turned his attention to the evening meal, stoking the fire, filling the pot, and measuring out enough rice for four in case he had visitors. He went to behead the fish, only to discover that his knife was gone.

Hakkai's heart jumped into his throat.

Before he could even think about it, he bolted back out the door. “Gojyo!” His cry echoed down the strand like that of a mournful seagull screeching down the sun. The light was dimming as the sun set, sinking lower and lower by the second, but just as Hakkai began to rush for the road, there was a brilliant burst from the water as Gojyo emerged. Hakkai wanted to call out to him again, but then, the light from the setting sun hit the dock and caught a silvery glint of metal.

His knife, and beside it, a small pile of pearls.

Gojyo’s sunburst faded as he landed on the shore, panting and exhausted. He shifted in form and crawled up the sand, clambered onto the dock, and dropped a few more pearls into the pile.

“Ain't enough yet,” he muttered, and yet in the quiet and so keenly attuned to that mouth, Hakkai could hear, “It ain’t never enough.” He staggered, and Hakkai gaped as Gojyo picked up the knife. “C’mon,” he muttered, turning the knife over in his hand, then spreading the fingers of the other hand wide. “You worthless piece of shit, ain’t it all you’re good for?!”

He ran the knife down the webbing of his fingers, heaving aloud, doubling over for a second. Hakkai froze in horror, but Gojyo kept going: “He’ll throw you out, you’ll have to go back, you idiot!” He sliced between the next two fingers, swearing and sobbing, and Hakkai tottered a step closer. Gojyo kept talking to himself as Hakkai, as if possessed, walked through his shock towards him with a hand outstretched as if to clear his disbelief. “What’m I worth, anyway? Ain’t that what it always is?!” Another slice, and Hakkai felt it across his own chest, damn his eyes, how could he have been so blind? “Nothing. Ain’t nothing else I got worth a damn thing to him. But he’s all I got, ain’t he? It’s this or he …” Gojyo cut across his palm and cried out, shoulders shaking. “Just … just … give him what he wants…”

He was lifting the knife again. Hakkai grabbed his hand before he could. “Gojyo, stop!” Gojyo whipped around, wide-eyed. Tears were streaming down his face, and Hakkai watched as one crystallized into a pearl and dropped into the blood pooled at his feet. Hakkai couldn’t speak for a moment, but when he did, it was a whisper: “Is this where they’ve come from?”

Gojyo was silent, slackjawed, even with blood still running down his hands and arms. His silence, and the pearls still dropping to his feet, was his answer. “No,” Hakkai said, then wrenched the knife from Gojyo’s loose grip and threw it into the sand. “No, I will not allow this!” He choked on the reality thrust down his throat by the very sight: “All of them? Every single one?”

Gojyo staring at him with tears in his eyes was enough to trigger some unconscious recollection:

_“Come on,” Gojyo was pleading into the night air, hair dripping, eyes dripping, sand dripping off of his palms as he clapped over Hakkai’s face and chest to try to rouse him. Hakkai was only conscious on a technicality, mindlessly gazing into the night sky. His lungs were heavy, so heavy, everything was so heavy. His eyelids were getting heavy, and heavier by the second. Gojyo pushed on his chest. “Come on, don’t you die on me, damn it!” He was starting to cry in his panic, heavy white pearls that thumped into the sand next to Hakkai’s hand. “I ain’t gonna lose you, damn it!” He bit down on his thumb and forced it into Hakkai’s mouth, and Hakkai tasted blood and then - and then -_

_And then Gojyo was pushing the pearls he’d shed into Hakkai’s palm, either as a memento or just hiding the evidence he’d been there…_

“What’s it matter where they come from?” Gojyo turned away from Hakkai again. “All that matters is ya wanted ‘em, you asked for 'em, and it ain’t like it’s hard for me -”

Hakkai couldn't hear him, babbling to himself as the memories flooded back: “Mermaids’ tears turn into pearls, it’s just as those silly old legends said -" He choked on the very thought, shaking his head and putting his foot down. "Gojyo, _no_ , you’re doing yourself harm just to force it!” Hakkai motioned in an undignified flail. “I can’t let you do this to yourself! It doesn’t matter what I asked of you, I can’t allow this!”

“And that’s why I told ya not to come watching!” Gojyo stormed to his feet. “You don’t get it, this is all I got! This’s the only way I can be of use to you, ain’t it?!”

He was crying again, but in anger instead of pain, and the pearls forming now were as black as coal. “That’s what it is, that’s what it always is. What something’s worth, its _value_.” He shook his head, scattering pearls as if they were nothing. “I’m fucking worthless on land, and I ain’t even that good back where I came from. Don’t nobody want me around, here or there or anywhere! But then I can give you these, and then you gave a damn, not a second earlier.”

Hakkai blanched. “That’s not true.”

“All you care about is goddamn _money!_ ”

“That’s simply not true!”

“Bullshit!" Gojyo's face was red with fury as he stormed a few steps towards Hakkai, wagging his finger. "You said, the night you took me in, I’d have to earn my keep! Fuck, it’s all you damn humans care about! Even little kids go out picking rice and throwing traps, and I just ain’t good at any of that!” He threw his hand down at the pearls. “This is all I can do! And sure, I can get some of ‘em eating the oysters, but you liked ‘em and I knew how to get more.” He shivered. “And I didn’t care that I had to do it at first, but then you just kept askin’ me for more!”

“I didn’t realize what it meant!”

“But it’s what you wanted!” Gojyo clenched his fists tight, blood draining faster from the tender wounds. Hakkai reached for his hand, but he swung it back and hung his head. “Fuck … I thought I was used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to … to this!” Hakkai gestured to the blood running down Gojyo's arm and pooling on the dock, the pearls gleaming from it like a sinister smile. He couldn’t stop imagining Kanan’s smile, her lips painted rouge red, the red silk of her bridal gown, as she sold herself off. “I never asked you to put yourself in this pain! Why would you -”

“You don’t get it?” Gojyo huffed and turned from Hakkai, glowering into the water. “Of course not. Just forget it.”

“I want to understand, and I want it to stop,” Hakkai pleaded, advancing on Gojyo, but Gojyo only stepped back, towards the water. Hakkai reached for him. “Gojyo, I beg of you-”

“No. Fuck it." Gojyo's knuckles went white, and he refused to look at Hakkai. "You won’t care. I did it for you and you never gave a damn!” He spun around to face the ocean, shaking his head, shoulders heaving in rage. “Fuck, if you’d never known _how_ I was doin’ it, you wouldn’t’a - I told you not to come looking!”

“I’d have stopped you sooner.” Hakkai could taste his heart in his mouth, even as Gojyo pivoted on him again.

“You’d’a made me leave faster!” Gojyo stomped towards him, and Hakkai trembled, but held his ground, almost wishing Gojyo would just skip the pretense and tear him to ribbons. “I needed to earn my keep, that’s what you told me!”

Hakkai grimaced as he remembered his own words and wished he'd suffocated on them. “I was fine with what efforts you were making! You were trying, that was all that mattered!”

“Bull fucking shit!” Gojyo stomped on the dock. “Don’t lie to me! Even before you let me in, it was money this, money that! Even last night.” Hakkai’s eyes went wide, as Gojyo tore his eyes away again as if the shadow of the setting sun could disguise the hurt in his expression. “Sayin’ you can’t keep me. Sayin’ I’m gonna leave. Walking away from me in the morning like I ain’t even there, and what for?”

“No, Gojyo, please.” Hakkai wrung his hands. “I can’t keep you, I can’t force you, how can I force you to stay with someone like me? Don’t you want to be free again?”

“What the fuck are you so hung up on?! You’ve seen what I got to go back to! There ain’t nothing out there!” He spun around again, shivering. “You don’t want this, you don’t want that. Fuck it. Never even asked me what I want, did you?”

“Gojyo, I -” Hakkai wanted to explain, _nobody_ wanted to stay, there was nothing worth staying for, he wanted Gojyo to be happy and how could Gojyo do that here? But Gojyo was right. “But - what do you -”

“It doesn’t matter.” Gojyo turned back to the sea, flashing his fingers at the pearls scattered on the dock. “Do what you want with those. I’m sick of crying for you.” He dove in and was gone into the seafoam in a flash of tail and scales.

Hakkai desperately grasped after him, then threw his shoes aside, dropped his glasses into the sand, and dove after him. He was a fisherman’s son, he was a strong swimmer, and he swam towards the setting sun, as far out as his legs and arms could take him, and searched underwater for even the slightest glimpse of Gojyo His lungs ached, but he surfaced for air and dove down over and over, eyes stinging from the salt and his own tears. He could feel himself exhausting, straining to keep swimming. For a second, he wondered if he floundered enough, if he were truly going to drown if Gojyo might come for him again, but he couldn’t ask for a second miracle.

Not when he’d squandered the first.

He dragged himself ashore on his hands and knees, smelling the ocean, _Gojyo_ , salt and blood. He hit the ground ruefully, then turned back to the ocean. The sun was nearly gone now, and but for the tiny waves lapping at Hakkai’s legs and knees, the water was still. Hakkai got to his feet, then cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, as if he could be heard:

“GOJYO!” He was still short for air, but he would have drowned if it meant another glimpse of him. “Gojyo, I’m not giving up. I’ll wait here until you’re ready to talk to me.” He marched back into his hut, ignored his growling stomach and the rice burning in the pot, and grabbed the shoes he’d been repairing with the reeds and needle, then strode right down the dock again. “You see, Gojyo?” He spoke aloud, as if Gojyo were there and listening. “Don’t you remember? These are for you. So you could stay. So you could walk alongside me without hurting yourself.” He entertained retrieving his spectacles as he threaded the needle, but in this moment, he’d rather be half-blind. “I’m going to sit here and work on them for you. So if you come back - if you come back, they’ll be here for you.” He wove the reed in, still forcing each stitch even though his heart and mind raced and ached. “I’m right here, Gojyo. I’m waiting for you. I want you here. I don’t know what you want, but I want you to tell me, and I’ll wait right here for you to come back.” He shook his head. “You have to understand, I wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t have to stay in this miserable place. I only stay because I promised someone I’d wait. That promise is for you now, Gojyo, I’ll wait here for you for as long as I might live.”

He kept weaving, talking without thinking, as he worked into the setting sun. The moon rose, bright and brilliant, and Hakkai still sat there, promising Gojyo he’d wait, pleading for him to give him some sign, threading the reed through the weft as quickly as he could. It wasn’t until the moon sank behind the clouds to black the night that Hakkai had to stop. Even then, he stood and held the shoes up. “See? They’re nearly done. I’ll finish them soon. Won’t you come look at them? See how close I am?” He dropped the sandals on the dock, next to the dried puddle where Gojyo had bled. “I’ll come back when I can see again. I’ll finish them for you. Maybe you can tell me just what it is you want then, and it doesn’t matter what it costs me, Gojyo, I’ll give it to you.”

He almost turned for home, until he glimpsed the pearls still there on the dock, ignored and forgotten since Gojyo had left them there hours before.

He picked them up: the white ones stained with blood, the black, tarnished ones both. These, he would never sell. They would be a memento, a reminder of his own failures, like the empty pig paddy, like a grave in the town yard. “I’ll be just inside, if you want to come ashore. I’ll leave the rain barrel open. I’ll leave lots of room on the mat.”

It felt all so hopeless. Watching Gojyo vanish into the blue had been like watching a crane take flight with an arrow in her wing, and Hakkai felt all the guilt as if he’d loosed that bolt himself.

He did leave, however, knowing his sleep would be restless, resigned to the loneliness he'd lived in and damned himself to once more.

He didn’t see red eyes peering up from under the dock.

Hakkai was already asleep when Gojyo did emerge onto the shore, shivering as his scales collapsed back into his flesh. He found Hakkai’s glasses on the sand and sighed: “For a smart guy, he’s a fucking idiot.” He set the glasses up on the dock, then clambered up there himself and picked up the sandals, turning them over. One was done, and one was almost entirely rewoven. He slid one on and flexed his toes in it. The straw scratched a little at the fresh webbing - the baby skin was a little more sensitive than his scales, after all, it bled so much easier - but the straw would only scratch, it wouldn’t grind and abrade like the dirt and rocks of the road did. Then, he looked at the faint stain on the wood, where he could still smell his own blood, if only a little, and frowned when he saw that the pearls were gone. “He took ‘em, huh? Of course he did.” He scoffed. “Shame he didn’t give me that little bag again.”

He’d left a lot of pearls at the bottom of the ocean that night.

He looked back to Hakkai’s dark little hovel, considering his options. He fidgeted with the nearly-done shoe, thinking hard. “Nothing out there for me. But …” He grimaced and shivered, naked and cold but for that one shoe. “Damn it.”

He left the finished shoe with its mate and went back into the hut. He could just make his way through in the dying light from the cooking fire. Hakkai was tossing and turning on the mat, shadows cast deep on his gaunt face, but he didn’t rouse at Gojyo’s surreptitious creep over the sandy floors to gather his clothes. However, when he did get his trousers back on, Hakkai rolled over, murmuring, “Gojyo, Gojyo,” hand grasping at something that wasn’t there. Gojyo stared, still thinking, still thinking.

He knew what he wanted, but he didn’t understand why Hakkai didn’t want the same.

He wanted to crawl into the mat until his skin and hair dried out, then sleep in the barrel until Hakkai found him there again, but he didn’t know what would happen when Hakkai pulled him out in the morning.

Then, a light shone through the window. Gojyo could see a shadow on the path to the beach and someone looking around, and crept out, already wary.

His guard dropped when he saw it was a woman - that woman, that Shunrei. He stepped out, and she waved to him, then beckoned him closer. As he approached, feet stinging with each heavy step, he could see her looking back over her shoulder. Was she looking at or for someone or something? Either way, she wore her terror as plainly as her apron. He stopped near her, and she extended a hand to touch his arm.

“I’m glad I found you,” she whispered, then beckoned him closer. “I didn’t know where else to go, who else I could talk to, so I came to you -”

“What’s th’ matter?” Gojyo furrowed his brow and nearer her, though he found himself looking behind her, too. He couldn’t see anything, but then, it was a moonless night, the light swallowed by gathering clouds. She grabbed his hand.

“It’s Jien.” She tugged his wrist. “He’s … he’s come back. He was so angry, just, raging, and I-” She stammered, dodging Gojyo’s gaze. “I-I want to talk to him, to find out what happened, but I’m so afraid.”

Gojyo stared at her, heart racing and jumping into his throat. “That … that doesn’t sound like the Jien I know.” He halted for a moment. “Or …”

“Gojyo, please.” Shunrei squeezed his hand, and he could feel her fingers shaking. “Could you - could you come with me? Please come with me.”

Gojyo hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder to Hakkai’s lonely little home again, his heart heavy like an anchor, but pulling him two ways.

Hakkai was … Hakkai was so complicated, and Gojyo wasn’t ready to sort all that out, but this… this was Jien. Or it might have been Jien. He had to at least find out, didn’t he?

“Sure. I’ll go with ya, honey.” Gojyo turned from Hakkai’s home and into the dark of the path. “Take me to him.”

He left, the rocks on the road biting at his feet, leaving Hakkai where he lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you noticed, and let me just say, I am so proud of you!
> 
> Many cultures have myths about mermaids. Japan, for instance, describes ningyo as half-fish, half people, with human faces and monkey mouths, scaled and ugly. Scotland has selkies, famed for their fur coats, which they shed to walk on land. Russian rusalka are the spirits of dead girls who emerge from their springs to water crops, but who lure men to watery graves.
> 
> Chinese mermaids are covered in multicolored hair, have webbed hands and feet, and cry pearls. 
> 
> I've pulled in a few myths to compose Gojyo here, but that one stuck hardest. There's one more very important mermaid myth that will come up, but we'll get to that soon enough.
> 
> I mentioned before, this story is technically inspired by two fairy tales. First is Hans Christian Andersen's Little Mermaid, but I also brought in elements of the Japanese folk story, The Crane Wife, or Tsuru Nyobo or Tsuru no Ongaeshi (depending on the version you encounter).
> 
> So the myth goes, a poor woodsman was walking through the forest when he discovered a crane with an arrow in its wing. He helped remove the arrow, patched the bird up, and set it free. Soon after, a woman appeared at his door, and offered to be his wife and companion. He welcomed her into his home without question. He regretted not being able to provide for her better, and she revealed to him a talent she had: she was able to weave beautiful, white silk fabric, soft and beautiful. He sold it, then asked her for more. She agreed to give it to him, but he had to promise never to watch her weaving. He agreed, and she began to provide lots of the marvelous fabric. He kept pushing her for more, even though the effort took a toll on her, and she became ill. He still demanded the fabric of her even as she struggled, but finally became curious and went in on her while she was weaving. Whether it was to offer her assistance or to demand more of her, or just out of curiosity, I've seen different versions of his reasons. However, in every version of the story, he discovers a crane plucking her own feathers out and turning it into the coveted silk. The crane, her identity revealed, flies away, and the man, realizing that the crane was just showing her gratitude and he exploited her, watches in mourning as she leaves.
> 
> That's where that myth ended. This story's not over.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


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